


Across the Veil

by CuriosityIsAWeakness



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen Rutherford Smut, Cullen Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Interrogation, Lyrium Withdrawal, M/M, Masturbation, Not Really Character Death, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-05-09 06:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14711226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityIsAWeakness/pseuds/CuriosityIsAWeakness
Summary: Set after the first part of “Here Lies the Abyss” before the attack on adamant fortress, Ava Trevelyan returns home to Skyhold from the Western Approach only to discover that her enemies had struck closer than expected and dealt a deadly blow to the Inquisition. Unable to cope with the loss, she turns to the very magic she has fought against to change the circumstance of her broken heart.Plot with some smut in the later chapters.Standard Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They are all the property of Bioware.





	1. The Mourning After

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic so feedback is always welcome. I posted a chunk of chapters because I didn't want to end on all doom and gloom.

“I can't see shit.”

Ava Trevelyan was too busy yawning to admit to the grumpy dwarf that he was right. Even though the moonlight washed the trodden dirt road in vibrant greys, it was not enough to keep Ava from straining her eyes. She wasn't even sure how far ahead Blackwall's destrier was in front of her.

“We should be home by now, Varric,” she sighed to her roguish companion, her courser accentuating his point and veering off to the left in the darkness.

“Hey, don't blame me, Inquisitor. Blame yourself and your constant need to rid Thedas of all the bad guys.” Varric shifted in his saddle, wincing at sores accumulated from a full day of hard riding.

“We can still make it back tonight.” Ava refused to surrender to the night when Skyhold was so close.

“I really don't feel like breaking my neck when my horse collapses from exhaustion. You shouldn't either. Makes for a bad ending to your story, it would take a true artisan to swing that properly.”

“Too bad we don't know any,” quipped Dorian as his charger surged up next to Ava and whinnied. Varric grasped at his chest, feigning hurt. “Oh please, as if a fall from your height would be fatal.”

“Let me check my satchel, I think I have a salve for that burn,” snickered Ava.

Varric shook his head. “Check for a potion that can make horses untired.”  

“That sounds particularly useful, stash some for later,” Dorian remarked slyly.

“Sorry Sparkles. Inquisition property. Gotta find a different way to fuel your horse.”

“Who said it was for the horses?” Dorian smirked.

“Oh? Plan on doing some hard riding eh Dorian?”

“Or maybe he just can’t keep up with The Bull,” Ava giggled.

“I never said …” Dorian’s eyes narrowed at the Inquisitor. “Ha. Ha. Although I love discussing myself and my stamina, why don't we talk about you and the Commander?”

“There is nothing to talk about,” Ava’s eyes darkened at the accusation, her companions oblivious.

“Really Inquisitor? Your go to spot is the top of the ramparts,” poked Varric.

Ava scowled. She oft told Cullen that she thought that spot was too exposed, not that it mattered anymore. Her friends mistook her unhappy countenance for being caught in a lie, with her pants afire in more ways than one, and continued their good natured jabbing.

“Why even? Cullen’s bedroom is right above his office.  For once all his work ethic makes sense,” prodded Dorian.

“His desk looks sturdy too.”  Ava’s lip betrayed her as it curled into a tiny grin as she failed to suppress the memory of their first tryst. Dorian raised an eyebrow as he noticed Ava’s reaction, while Varric took a more direct approach.

“You guys couldn’t even make it up a ladder?” Varric exclaimed. “I’ve eaten lunch at that desk!”

“Can't say I blame you. Strapping young Templars was totally a phase of mine as well. I can see why you're rushing back. ” Dorian nodded in approval.

“You presume much,” Ava replied curtly, the grin had melted away.

“Right … well I _do_ know that I _don't_ want to be the one to tell Cullen that the Herald of Blessed Andraste was slain by her horse stumbling into a ditch in the dark.”

“What? You don't want to be throttled by a tall blonde ex-Templar?” chided Varric.

“Although the thought of the Commander's rough hands snaking fingers around my neck is enticing, strangle marks don't really go with my outfit.”

“Death probably doesn't either.”

“That too. Guess you'll have to tell him Varric.”

“Well, shit.”

“Enough with this. As I said before, there is nothing to discuss. We are not ...” Ava trailed off, those words too painful to say, but the last conversation with Cullen was cold and abrupt. Even after all the intimate moments they had shared, Lyrium was a great divide that still needed to be traversed.

_He wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. Would he even want to see me?_

Varric rubbed the back of his neck, for once at a loss for words. Dorian cleared his throat and ventured, “Lovers spat? Oh, I envy you. Make up sex is the best kind. Fueled by raw emotion. Borderline primal. Hands sifting through blond curls, gripping the locks.” Dorian grasped the reins, knuckles tightening as he continued. “Everything more forceful, a trail of teeth along the neck, nails scraping down chiseled muscle, testing the stability of the Commander's desk. Wood creaking, papers shuffling -” Dorian paused abruptly and looked at the bemused faces of Varric and the Inquisitor. “Oh - I'm sorry. What were we talking about?”

Varric fanned himself. “Some new material for Swords & Shields. Thanks, Sparkles.”

“I - may need some new _material_ as well.” Dorian readjusted himself in his saddle, looking strained.

Ava stifled a chuckle as she added, “We may all need a rest after that.”

“Finally! Blackwall did you hear that? We're camping!” Varric bellowed with a new-found bundle of energy.

The Warden turned his destrier around to face his companions.

“No need to wake the dead, my ears burn enough already.”

“You were so far ahead I had thought you heard the calling.” Varric directed his horse off the road in search of a suitable campsite.

“That would have been terrible. I'm sure no one else here knows how to use a shield.” Dorian’s charger flipped it's mane as it followed close behind the dwarf’s mare. Ava wondered where Dorian found a horse as primped as he was. Her smile faded as Ava's eyes locked with Blackwall's. His gaze was a heavy thing, fraught with longing and regret. He gestured for her to go first but Ava kept her eyes on the Warden.

“They jest, but do you hear it? Like the others?”

“Whether I do or don't, my place right now is with the Inquisition.”

“One day, it may take you.”

“And I would never leave without saying goodbye.” He spurred his destrier on, melting into the shadows of the trees. As she watched his disappearing form she thought about the dark, vacant pools that were his eyes and how easily he turned his back to her.

She knew then, that she didn't believe him.

***  
Varric poked at the fire with a twisted branch, embers dancing into the night. The warm glow reflected in Ava’s deep blue, almost violet eyes. Dorian for all his niceties was snoring already in his tent while Varric reclined with a quill and some parchment by the fire. Ava’s eyes wandered to the quiet Warden, who faced away from the camp, staring absently into the woods. She wondered if the revelation about the wardens weighed heavily on him and sidled up next to him to ask.

“Blackwall, I feel like something is on your mind.”

“Only my duty Inquisitor.” He barely acknowledged her.

“If there’s anything -”

“- You should sleep Inquisitor, we ride at first light.” Blackwall inadvertently brushed his hand against Ava’s and recoiled as if burnt.  Blackwall backed away giving Ava a wide berth as he retired to his tent. Varric watched the exchange while pretending to be engrossed in his writing. The puzzled look on Ava's face told him that she had absolutely no idea what was going on, but it appeared to Varric that Blackwall knew better than to play with fire.

***  
_He must be a mirage. A snow mirage. That's the only explanation. Or maybe it's just an outcropping that's in the shape of the Commander. Maker, how long have I been walking?_

Ava shivered from the tips of her toes to the top of her bare head, her helm lost long ago in her tumble down the abandoned shaft. Every stiff step felt like it could be her last, frozen to the mountain side like a long lost ancient statue.

But then there he was, never looking more majestic.

 _Cullen_.

She shivered again. This time it was not because of the cold.

He stood before her, snowflakes dusting his mantle, his gloved hand outstretched to her. The wind whipped his cloak around him but that didn't affect the pure unadulterated image of this Knight in shining armor. His amber eyes were a mix of relief and anxiety. One would say that he just looked concerned but Ava could almost swear that it looked a little bit like love. She shook her head at the notion. All attempts at flirting were casually brushed aside by the nothing but professional and stoic Commander.

She wasn't going to lie to herself though. Cullen’s gaze could make her blush like a virginal teen. It reminded her of the time her younger self had stumbled across some Templars sparring shirtless. The smirks they had given her when she let out a surprised yelp followed her around for years at the circle. And those were just boys really, in front of her now was a real man, shoulders broad, scars across his muscled physique, and scars across his soul.

Ava ventured a feeble hand forward to take his but she was too far away and started to teeter into the blanket of white snow. It certainly did look warm and inviting to her, like a freshly laundered gigantic cotton pillow. She was terribly tired, _why not rest for a bit?_ Before she could sink into the blank void she was engulfed by the warm fur of the Commander's mantle. The scent of leather, sweat, with hints of oakmoss and elderflower, flooded her senses.

 _I_ _s this what he smells like?_

“Thank the Maker you're alive.”

She felt a gloved hand barely touch her face but in an instant, it was gone. Ava would have protested but before she could, Cullen had slipped off the leather glove to caress her, the warm skin of his hand against her cold face.

She had never stood this close to the Commander before. In fact, she had never eked out of him more than a few words that were not all business. Now here he was, his scarred lip inches from her own and all she could think about was nuzzling into his hand and how inviting his mouth looked.

As he brushed the stray hairs from her cheek, Ava felt herself flush at his touch, the warmth traveling from her face to the rest of her body.

“I'm sorry my hands are rough.”

He apologized as he retracted his hand, shying away from her in the most adorable way.

“No don't stop.”

She recaptured his hand and placed it back on her face. His other hand that was resting comfortably at her waist gently coiled around her, bringing her so close that she could feel the heat of his breath on her lips. She closed her eyes leaning forward for a kiss when she kept falling, for impossibly long before crashing into a wash of coldness.

Her eyes popped open and Ava shivered at the breeze that was traveling up her arm. The toggle on her tent flap had come undone and was letting in the night air in gusts.

 _Another dream_.

Ava let out a heavy sigh, as she raised her fingertips to her lips. This dream was different however, and not just because of its tameness, but because it was a memory. Ava thanked the Maker that it ended before the Commander could avert her awkward pass at him with a stuttered hug.

She didn't know where she stood with him after that for weeks. Of course, the main priority was finding Skyhold, and there really wasn't any time for stilted words and clumsy conversations.

Ava shuffled over to close up her tent, pausing only to sneak a glimpse at the twinkling dots of light splashed across the sky. Her eyes settled on the cluster of stars that was Judex, a rosy blush radiating across her cheeks. Cullen had whispered the name of that constellation into her ear as he bestowed gentle kisses upon her neck. She had pulled the coverlet higher to wrap their entwined limbs, commenting on how they had the funds to fix his roof. Cullen's response was that the cool night air helps him sleep but having her in his arms helps him sleep better. Now every night, when the clouds were kind, she'd glance up at the glistening stars above and think of him.

She finished fastening the tent flap and plopped back down on her bedroll trying to find that elusive sleeping position that could almost be called comfortable. Even though she was able to find it, she found that sleep still eluded her as thoughts of Cullen's amber eyes and golden mane followed her to bed.

She had to reconcile with her Commander. When there's so much death in the world, she cannot let lyrium be the thing that keeps them apart. With her path decided and conscience sated, she let slumber overtake her. Tomorrow will be a new day.

*****

The moment the towering peaks of Skyhold came into view, a sense of foreboding filled Ava to the core.  Her change in pace from trot to gallop could have easily been mistaken for excitement except for the lines of worry etched on her face. She couldn't put her finger on what was wrong, at least not until she was closer.

_The gates are down. Why are all the gates down?_

A pair of fully armored soldiers scurried across the battlements joining a group already established at the top of the gate. The solid metal portcullis creaked open as they approached, gears churning and in need of oiling. An unnamed Soldier ducked underneath and ran out to salute the incoming party.

“Inquisitor! Thank the Maker you've returned. We were worried after the attack last night.” The soldier grabbed the reins as Ava swung a leg over to dismount.

“An attack? Was it Corypheus? Gather my advisors tell them that I will meet them in the war room.”  She landed with a graceful thud now standing face to face with the soldier. His pallor was visibly waning as if he was about to be sick.

“Leliana and Josephine have already been informed of your arrival.” Ava hesitated at the very specific and very short list of advisors.

“And Cullen?”  The guard blanched to a deathly pale.

_No no no._

“I regret to inform you, your worship,” the guard paused to swallow uncomfortably.

_No, don't say it._

“That Commander Cullen is dead.”

There was no longer any air. Words. She mouthed them. _What?_ Nothing came out. Ava suddenly felt weightless as the world gave way beneath her feet.

 

 _Was it a dream?_ She struggled to breathe.

 

The cold stone of the bridge underneath her fingertips jolted her back to the inescapable reality. Ava lay on the ground crowded by her soldiers, their faces filled with equal amounts concern and uneasiness. Everything was foggy and no amount of blinking could clear her vision. She lifted a hand to her face and realized her eyes were full of tears. Josephine was by her side helping her up, while Leliana had held some reports in her hand while berating the guard.

“How could you let her find out this way?” Leliana’s gaze cowed the poor guard.

Ava put on a brave face. The face of the Inquisitor. “How many died last night? How many injured?”

“She's up.” Ava was standing, but Josephine still held her as if she was going to fall.

“Inquisitor are you alright?” Leliana shifted her focus to Ava and leaned in, anxiety washing her face.

“What are our casualties?” Ava repeated the question while Leliana and Josephine shared a look with each other, before looking at Ava with more than a touch of pity.

Josephine spoke solemnly, breaking the momentary silence.  “Just the one.”

“It was a pointed attack Inquisitor, an assassination,” clarified Leliana.

“I want to see him,” she demanded. _There it was. That look again._

“Inquisitor…” Ava threw a hand up to stop Josephine from continuing.

“Where is he?”

***

Ava swung open the doors of Skyhold’s small chantry ignoring all others in the room, and when her eyes settled upon Cullen everything in the world stopped. There was no sound, and no movement, as if time itself had halted for her and her knight. He laid upon a makeshift bier at the foot of the statue of Andraste, covered by a blood stained linen. Ava trembled with each step she took, her knees weaker the closer she got to the bier. When she reached his side,  she sank down to her knees, the flickering of candles the only indication to Ava that time around them was passing.

She lifted her hands to cup his face, like all the times she had known before and traced her thumb upon the scar on his lip. His face was ashen, paler than she remembered. _At least his face is serene, no pain_ , unlike the empty chasm in the pit of her stomach. She did not want to mourn him. She would not mourn him. Not until she found who did this and ripped their soul into a thousand pieces to burn in the void.

“Get his armor, and his sword,” Ava spoke, but her voice sounded different to her own ears. “I'll not have him lying here in his small things.” Some soldiers standing in the back saluted and exited leaving Ava alone with her advisors.

 _He did not even get to die with a sword in his hand._ As she stood she placed a hand on his chest, the stillness made her heart ache.

“Who did this?” Ava could not stop the silent fury that had started to well within her chest.

“The assassin is in a cell below.”

“A lone wolf?” _A coward._

“Unsure. There are many parties who would relish our failure,” Leliana responded her answers guarded.

“Why Cullen?” Ava murmured under her breath, barely a whisper.

“He is the Commander of our troops. Perhaps they thought his fall would send the Inquisition into disarray.” Ava ignored Josephine's obvious answer. The question she asked was more for herself. Did her enemies know about their tryst? Was anyone she was close to in danger? Was this her fault? Who would be next? She knew she had no answers to any of those questions. She'd have to ask the only person she could.

“Take me to the assassin.”


	2. A Tortured Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be advised, there is Torture in this, and a little gore? Not sure what the tolerance levels are for some people.

The Inquisition soldiers flanking the door to the underground cells saluted, fists to chest, as Ava approached. She didn't recognize either of them. She wondered just how many soldiers she had never met, how many servants she had never seen, and how many would-be-assassins still lurked within their ranks?

The steps down were dark, lit by traditional torch light. Counterintuitively the light grew stronger the deeper they went. The small stair opened up into  a large room, half of which was collapsed stone, twisted bars and gaping holes revealing the snow capped mountains of the Frostbacks. It was a nice view for a dungeon. A brazier in the center of the room served to heat the room more than it was to light it. The gaoler looked surprised. “Inquisitor!”

“Guard the entrance, let no one in.” The gaoler saluted and bowed her head as she left. Behind her was an empty cell with a chair, desk and a pile of books. Some candle stubs were fixed upon the desk.

They proceeded further into the cells before stopping at the only occupied cell in the back of the ruined jail. Three steps to the right and one would fall to their doom.  The occupant sat cross legged on a straw mat wearing dirtied servant garb in the stone walled cell. Her eyes followed the Inquisitor, like a hunter and its prey, as Ava stood outside the cell. The silence was long and drawn out, like the calm before a storm. Finally the Inquisitor spoke. “What is your name?”

The prisoner glared at the Inquisitor eyes full of defiance. Ava turned to Leliana who cleared her throat before speaking. “The name she was using was Vora Royton, most likely a pseudonym,” Leliana looked more uncomfortable than the prisoner under Ava's gaze.

“Where are you from?” The prisoner smirked and wiped her hands on her blood stained apron. The flash of rust colored red set Ava's anger ablaze. The air saturated with electrical energy, her mage robes starting to float from the either static or sheer willpower, and without a single word, Ava blasted a chain of lightning into the cell illuminating the dark cell with the crackle of electricity. The smell of burnt air permeated the space.

“INQUISITOR!” Josephine shouted before Leliana held out a hand gesturing her to stay silent. The assassin sprawled on the floor in shock, but quickly recovered and turned to look through the bars. A few stray wisps of lightning traced the prisoner's face and recoiled when Ava trailed her fingers across the bars. Each tendril wrapping around each subsequent bar as her hand passed over them.

“Lightning can be unpredictable,” Ava held her hand in front of her, rivulets of light snaking around her forearm. They danced up to her fingertips as she turned her palm to face her. “A storm cloud can form out of thin air, to strike a person down in an instant.” The assassin was not fooled by this display and stood to face Ava, focusing her eyes upon the Inquisitor. Ava swung her arm, whipping a lash of electricity against the stone wall, white and blue sparks showering the cell.

“There is an easier way to do this,” the Inquisitor’s voice was low, and beckoning. Ava let loose a tendril of arcing energy from her hand which crawled its way through the air toward the prisoner. The assassin took a step forward, to embrace the energy that lapped at her neck, even as it flicked at her threateningly.

“Whom do you serve?” The assassin’s eyes darted to the blackened mark on the side of her cell before turning back to look at the Inquisitor. _Was she calling my bluff?_

“Who sent you here?”

Silence. Ava made a fist and the arcs of electricity banded around the prisoners neck. The assassin yelped for an instant before laughing. A strange look came across the prisoner’s face as it contorted in pain. Ava released her hold, the blue light dissipating, but the prisoner’s face still continued its convulsions, blood gurgling out of her mouth. Through bloody teeth, the prisoner spat her tongue out onto the floor.

“Maker’s breath!” Josephine’s face paled as she jumped back from the bloody mess. The prisoner jeered at the Inquisitor, lines of crimson dripping down her chin. Despite the gruesome display, an eerie laughter erupted from Ava’s lips.

“Oh you think that makes it harder to get what I want?” Ava's voice was half a purr half a threat. “You will tell me what I want to know.” Ava made a fist and arcs of electricity banded around an ankle. The assassin tried to crawl away, but Ava lifted her other hand and clamped a band of electricity around the other ankle and yanked her towards the bars of the cell. The prisoner yelped a strangled mess of a noise as she was dragged the into the bars. The assassin sat up and used her arms to push away from the bars in an air of desperation, a flash of fear across her eyes.

“Inquisitor! That is quite enough!” Josephine took a step towards Ava when Leliana stepped in between and shook her head.

The Inquisitor's voice rang clear above the sounds of the struggling captor. “Leave us Josephine, you are no soldier.” Ava reached into the bars to grab the assassin by the face forcing her to look into Ava’s eyes.

“She has no tongue!” Josephine just did not understand.

“She has hands, eyes, and two of each.” The prisoner’s eyes widened in panic, a far cry from her earlier defiance. “As long as she draws breath, she can tell us what we need to know.” Ava released her hold and turned to her spymaster.

“Leliana, I trust you can continue.”

Leliana inclined her head, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

***

Daylight spilled into the stair corridor as Ava emerged from the dungeon with a stunned Josephine in tow. The gaoler was talking with two Templars, their charge a few steps behind them. They immediately stood at attention in her presence, a sight that was still peculiar to Ava. When she had sided with the mages in Redcliffe and gave them equal footing after their betrayal, she expected that all the templars would rebuke her and leave. To her surprise, there was an influx of Templars, with horrific tales from Therinfal Redoubt, to join the handful that had already sworn fealty to the Inquisition.

Even though they all pledged themselves to the cause, Ava was always a bit wary in their company. After everything that has happened, how could they follow a mage? Many of them had looked up to Cullen even though he had left the order. She was sure the presence of an Ex-Templar as the Commander of the Inquisition had helped many of them look past her class. Being hailed as the Herald of Andraste, swayed the most pious as well. The rest perhaps just needed the untainted lyrium that the Inquisition could procure. Now with the Commander’s death, would she have to keep an eye on them? Or did they all wish to find their Commander’s killer as well?

“You may want to do a lap around Skyhold. Leliana is still entertaining our guest.” The soldiers looked perplexed but saluted all the same. As Ava moved past them, she saw their hooded escort, Gereon Alexius, the first judgement of her tenure as Inquisitor. Ava had perused the reports from the mages that were conducting experiments with Alexius and the results that they obtained were impressive. His knowledge of the arcane was valuable indeed and it almost made up for the guilty conscience of sentencing a man to forever live within a Templar’s shadow. Alexius glanced up at Ava, as if he knew that her thoughts had strayed upon him and cast a snide smile, the corners of his thin lips twisting at the ends.

“As I foretold, the storm comes, and your dear Commander is just another soul lost amongst the countless that you could not save. Revel in the small victories as they lay shallow against the burden of the dead.” A Templar’s fist jostled Alexius’ shoulder.

“Show the Herald some respect. She is the reason that you are still alive,” the Templar scowled at impertinent mage.

“Foolish Templar. To be alive one must live,” Alexius preached, “Call to Andraste. Beg to the Maker. None of it matters. The empty halls of the Golden City echo with your worthless prayers.”

And just like that, Ava no longer felt any remorse.

***

Soldiers and servants stepped aside as the Inquisitor strode with purpose towards Cullen’s office. Guards stood at each entrance, six in total, leading one to believe that something of great import lay behind those doors. _It's a little late for that,_ she thought bitterly. _What were they possibly guarding?_ She absently wondered if they had stopped the two guards that Ava sent to get Cullen’s armor.

“Inquisitor, Leliana has instructed us that no one was to disturb the Commander’s office while the investigation is underway.” The guard had tilted his halberd to block the door, but he immediately second guessed the gesture under Ava’s steely glare.

“Do you think that applies to me as well?” Ava did not have time for this song and dance.

“Um, well no Inquisitor.” Ava glared at the guard until he recoiled his arm.

“Do not disturb me.” The guard sheepishly kept his head down while the other guard kept his face forward and expression immutable as Ava slipped into the door behind.

Cullen’s office was unnervingly quiet. She could remember all the times that she shirked her duties only to come here and steal a kiss. He was always poring over some report, reallocating troops, or performing the calculations to calibrate the trebuchets. He had to be persuaded more often than not, although once committed to the dereliction of his duties, he had more than made up for her effort.  She let her fingertips trail across his desk, shifting the scattered papers that lay on top.

Ava climbed the ladder to the loft that served as his bedroom, peering in from the top rung. Sunlight shined through in patches where the roof had decayed, illuminating the particles in the air and the crime scene below it. Everything was in disarray, a mess of dried blood covered the bed and trailed onto the floor stones. Her heart was pounding in her chest like a hammer to a forge.

After surveying the room, she looked down at the flecks of dried blood clinging to her hand. She quickly shimmied back down the rungs and rummaged through his things for a cloth. She spied his oiling rag for his sword. It would do. She sat at his chair by his desk to steady her breathing, wiping the remnants of the murder from her hand. At that moment, she realized she never even saw him sitting in his chair. It was still stiff, the leather arms barely worn.

 _This man never rested_.

The room still smelled like him, the papers, the leathers, the metal. She scanned his desk again and spied a letter sitting on top, from his sister Mia. Ava remembered when Cullen had first opened up to her about his family. It was at a chess game in the garden that she was destined to lose. Strategy was never really her forte which is why it was nice to have advisors point out that running in face first may not always be the best option. Although, she ran face first into the arms of her Commander and she was quite glad she didn't think first. Other parts of her were glad too. She smiled at the thought.

She had always figured that one day, after all of this, he would take her home to meet his family, but now that day would never come. Ava's hand shook as she held the letter with a clenched fist. She knew how important family was to him and knew that Mia had a right to know. Ava pulled out a piece of parchment and scavenged for a quill on his desk. She dipped the tip into the ink well and wrote in flowing characters “Dear Mia,” when droplets of water fell onto the letter, smearing the still wet ink.

She could not hold it back any longer. Ava spread her hands out on the table and crumpled everything on it, pulling and piling all the papers, books, maps, within her arms before she put her head down on them. The accumulation of items did nothing to muffle the sound of her crying.

***

“Inquisitor.”

Ava woke with a start, Cassandra laid her hand gently on the Inquisitor's shoulder. Ava blinked a few times before realizing where she was.

“Cassandra, What are you doing here?”

“We thought it best to leave you be, however, it's getting dark,” Cassandra gestured towards the window.

The sky was a foreboding red, slashes of scarlet reaching across the room.  Cassandra paced over to the window overlooking the courtyard and placed a hand on the ledge. Her look was somber, her eyes oddly vacant.

“The service is about to begin.”

***

The pyre was grand but Ava could ill afford to wonder where they got all that wood so  quickly. They left a path through the planks to where Cullen lay, letting people pay their respects at his side.

This approach was easier than the first time and Ava found herself looking upon his supine form. Cullen looked handsome in his full regalia, gauntlets gripping the hilt of the sword on his chest. Part of her wanted to save his sword and have it become the Commander's sword. The Inquisition could always use the extra blade, but she knew in her heart that she would never let anyone else use the sword. Someone had placed a Templar banner over his legs. She was unsure if he'd approve but it did not matter at this moment.

Ava cupped her hands around his face, the last time she ever would. The lines of worry no longer etched on his beautiful visage. She ran her fingers through the tufts of fur on his armor. His pauldrons shined eerily in the glow of dusk, the maw of his lion’s head helm at his side. She had never seen him wear the helm into battle and while she had always wondered about it on his arms stand, she never had a chance to ask him about it. Now she would never get to. She put her hands on his gauntlets and clasped them one last time. Cold metal. Cold body.

She leaned forward to kiss his forehead, and despite the audience, Ava placed a kiss on his lips as well. If there was any doubt beforehand of their relationship it was dispelled with that gesture. She stepped off the pyre into an open spot in the surrounding crowd between Cassandra and Dorian, and turned to face Cullen.

She raised her arm and a globe of fire sprung from her hand. The flames danced in her hand, the glow mesmerizing, embers flying into the twilight. She stood statuelike for a moment before she began to tremble. Dorian was the first to notice and placed a calming hand on her shoulder but the shaking didn't stop. Her eyes pleaded to Dorian.

“I can't ...” The fire winked out and Dorian drew her into a hug. He held her close, his embrace was warm and comforting, but Ava could not stop trembling. Dorian rubbed her arms like she was cold, but knew that it would not help. He looked down at the normally stoic leader and saw all the raw edges of a newly broken facade.

“Do you want me to …” Ava nodded solemnly at his half asked question, took a breath and straightened her back. Dorian raised his hand, and flames burst from his palm, landing at the four corners of the pyre setting it ablaze.

As she watched the fire, the crowd began to recite the Chant of Light. She added a few words earning a raised eyebrow from Dorian.

_“Draw your last breath, my love,_

_Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky._

_Rest at the Maker's right hand,_

_And be Forgiven.”_

Ava found no respite in the Chant, no comfort at the words. The flames grew taller, until Cullen was engulfed. She could no longer watch and buried her head into Dorian’s chest. The tears flowed freely, as she let out a devastating heartbreaking wail.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : (


	3. Tempting Tevinter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ava's grieving has got her doing things she normally doesn't do...

Her feet were moving, but she didn't know where she was going. After excusing herself from the Great Hall and a full plate of untouched mutton she did not know what to do but wander. Ava had gotten into a habit of taking her evening meal with Cullen and his absence was like a dagger in her side.  Every person that came to offer condolences was twist to that blade. She had to get out.

Her feet took her back outside along the ramparts of the hold. She knew if she kept walking this way that she would eventually come across his office. Was it intentional? No. Habit? Probably. Ava’s mind was thinking of both everything and nothing at the same time and she almost stumbled into his door. She frowned at the light seeping from the edges of the doorway and the sounds of footsteps inside.

_More spies? What happened to the guards?_

Ava flung open the door and found the office teeming with servants. They were in the midst of cleaning and organizing but all froze when Ava had opened the door.

“What are you doing?”

“We're gathering files for Sister Leliana, your worship,” answered the bravest one, who also happened to be the furthest.

“Leave it.” She eyed them warily. “Tell her I'll deal with it,” A servant held a pile of papers up to the Inquisitor. Ava waved them down. “Tomorrow.” _So literal_.

The servants practically dropped everything. _Were they always so … obedient?_

One servant swung a leg over the ladder and started to come down with a bucket in one hand.

“Oh ...you … you can stay and .. clean up ..” _the blood_... They nodded dutifully and returned to their work, but Ava suddenly had trouble breathing. The room felt constricting like a vice to her chest. Ava scrambled to the nearest exit throwing open the door and shutting it behind her as she leaned against it.

A gust of cold mountain wind blew over the battlements forcing her to turn her head away from the blast, back towards the keep.  Wisps of smoke lingered in the air above skyhold. Her eyes followed the trail downward and she took a step toward the parapet.

Her hands gripped the stone crenelation as she looked over the edge into the courtyard. Even from this distance the embers from the pyre were still glowing. She knew she shouldn't venture closer but her feet were taking her closer. The steps seemed steeper, each ledge a looming precipice, and she struggled getting down them. She stopped at the last step and looked mournfully towards the remnants of the fire.

Ava shut her tearful eyes, and pivoted toward the closed merchant stands and the stables. Her last memory of Cullen couldn't be charred bone and smoldering armor. She took a few steps before noticing Blackwall leaning on the doorframe to the stable, backlit by the fire in the hearth. _How long has he been watching me?_

“Hello Blackwall.”

“Inquisitor.”

“You look pensive.”

“My thoughts are of Adamant. We need to head there as soon as possible. If there is any chance we can stop Corypheus from destroying the wardens, we can’t let it slip away.”

“What do you think we’ll uncover in Adamant?”

“Nothing good. All I see is a nightmare laid before me,” Ava nodded in agreement.

“Preparations for Adamant are already under way. We cannot let the nightmare become reality.” Ava moved closer to the fire, letting the heat warm an outstretched hand.  

“Blackwall, I have a favor to ask,” she turned away from the fire to regard the stalwart Warden. He looked curious as he stepped to stand beside her in front of the hearth, the fire shining in his eyes.

“Could you lead the morning drills tomorrow for the recruits? We've recalled Knight Captain Rylen from Griffon Wing Keep but he will not get here for a few weeks. I want to maintain some semblance of order since…” Ava trailed off.

“Whatever the Inquisition requires of me.” Ava showed her appreciation with a smile. _Always with the duty_.

“When we met you, you were slapping some sense into farmhands. This should be much easier.”

“They had an excellent Commander.” Ava winced at his choice of words. _Had_. She nodded at his comment to mask her pain and tried to blink back a few tears, her smile now bittersweet.

“Obviously this isn’t a permanent solution, because I'll need you in the field at my side.”

She placed her hand on his shoulder, in camaraderie. It was the first time in a long time, that neither shied away, Blackwall’s expression looked like a mix of surprise and hope? She wasn’t sure what it was, or what it meant until he took her hand in his, placing his other hand on top. He waited, perhaps to see if she would pull away. When she didn’t he took a step closer, opening his arms for an embrace. She took it, breathing him in, the familiar scent of metal and leather. It was different but the notes were there. Blackwall’s musk was more like freshly chopped wood and smoke.

He stroked her hair and seemed to be breathing her in as well, and for a moment she was lost. She fluttered her eyes and looked up at him. They were close enough for a kiss. Blackwall tightened his arms around her waist, one hand moving to grace the back of her neck, bringing her closer, his breath brushing her lips.  Ava did not fight his magnetic pull when, Blackwall turned his head and stepped away. Suddenly aware of what just transpired Ava quickly gathered her bearings and headed straight for the back entrance into the keep. By the time Blackwall looked back toward her, she was already halfway up the steps. 

****

Ava meandered around the kitchen staff, who nearly dropped a pot of stew at her sudden appearance. She darted through the lower corridors and doors before popping out at the great hall. She tried to keep her head down as she rushed towards her quarters, like a mouse scurrying across the floor in a room full of cats. Dorian spied her out of the corner of his eye and watched as an overstuffed Orlesian noble intercepted her, and proceeded to bore her with a long winded story of his exploits. Of course, Dorian didn’t actually know what was being discussed but the disdain on her face was palpable. The guy couldn't take a hint. He mused that Orlesians spend too much time with masks on that they forgot how to read actual people. Dorian smirked.

 _Time for a rescue_.

He excused himself from his current conversation with a striking young man who looked miffed at his abandonment. Dorian sauntered over to the Orlesian with his arms outstretched and announced his presence.

“Inquisitor! Please introduce me to your friend?”

“Dorian, this is the Envoy to Jader, Etienne L’Heureux.”

“My, what a mouthful of a name. Leave it to the Orlesians to fancify everything.”

“Pardon?”

“I mean if you are from Antiva, you are Antivan. If you are from Nevarra, you are Nevarran.” Ava gave Dorian a look, but Dorian continued gesticulating with grandeur.

“It makes sense. ORLAIS becomes Orlesian. I bet you don't even pronounce half of the letters in your name, so why bother?”

The Orlesian leaned back and crossed his arms, his posture defensive. “This is your Tevinter mage?”

“See!  You used Tevinter for Tevinter! Oh but don't get me started on Ferel **DAN** s from Ferel **DEN**. They perplex me in so many ways.” He tapped a finger on his pursed lips. “But I guess it's better than sounding like a disease.”

Etienne huffed. “Farewell Inquisitor,” he spat as he turned and walked away.

“I mean look at this rash, do you think it'll become an Or- _lesion_?” Dorian pointed at the back of his hand, then feigned horror, “I'm too handsome for this!”  

“Dorian…  “ the Inquisitor sounded serious but then smiled. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Orlesians prance about with sticks so firmly up their backsides, it was … Ava are you...” Her eyes were glassy, filled with tears. He brought a hand to her cheek and joviality melted to seriousness.

“Let's go.”

***

“Do you need anything? I'll get a runner.” Dorian stepped up into the Inquisitor's quarters like he owned it even though it was the first time he had ever stepped foot in there.

“No, just keep me company for now?” Ava looked lost in her own skin. He could not deny such a simple request.

“Of course. Do you want to talk about … anything?” Dorian casually strolled around the large room, sidestepping a bathing tub full of water. It was probably carried in upon Ava's return but it sat unused.

“No.”

“Then I shall talk, I know you love the sound of my voice anyway.” He picked up a bottle of wine off her desk.

“A gift for the Herald of Andraste, from someone trying to buy their way into the Maker’s good graces, I'm sure.” He looked at the wax seal and nodded, “A good vintage, they must have been awful sinners.” Dorian flashed his charming grin.

“Shall I pour you a glass?” She shook her head no.

“It may help you sleep later.” Dorian scanned the room for a glass. Ava marched over and took the bottle out of his hand, taking a long swig.

Dorian raised an eyebrow, “Inquisitor, I don't think I've ever seen you drink like this before.”

“I’m a light drunk.”

“Then maybe we should tone it down. It's a fine line between fun and vomit.” Ava took another long swig before returning the bottle to Dorian. He swirled it to see how much remained before taking a drink himself.

“I like your quarters. Not that I couldn’t suggest some changes, your taste is a little austere and this tub just ruins the sight lines.”

“Oh, I didn't… I haven't even returned to my quarters today.”

Dorian stuck a hand in the water and gave it a stir, soon steam rose into the air. He lifted his hand from the water and beckoned towards to Ava.  “A hot bath will help you relax, although, I won't promise not to look.” Dorian grinned flirtatiously before turning away towards the windows.

“In Tevinter, bathhouses are shared amongst the genders. A plethora of tits and balls. As you can imagine, raging conflicts start with a lingering glance on a Lord's Lady and last for years. Nobles do tend to offend quite easily.”

“Were the bathhouses only frequented by nobles?”

“Slaves do not have time for leisure. It's unfortunate but the way of Tevinter society.”

“Do any slaves break free?” The sweet smell of lavender filled the air accompanied by the sound of Ava's gentle splashing.

“There was a slave whose craftsmanship was exquisite. He had tiled a noble’s personal bath with glass the size of a thumbnail in a mosaic grander and with a more vivid color palette than poor Solas could ever dream of. Naturally the rich fought over him and his owner came down with a tragic case of poisoned crossbow bolt in the back. The assassin however, was quite incompetent, missed all the vital organs and the dosage of poison was not enough to kill the man right away. On his deathbed he freed the slave before a judge, making him Liberati. In the end the former slave found a way to attach the tiles to a netting so that the rich could fight over that instead of himself and actually garnered quite a profit.”

“I take it that does not happen often.”

“No, it does not.”  He leaned back on the divan and took a swig of the wine. “One cannot escape the metal bars of their cage.”

“If only they had some fire in them like you.”

“What good would mage fire do against metal? It does not burn hotter than a forge.”

“No, I meant the fire within to escape.”

“You mean the conflagration it took for me to leave Tevinter?”

“At least you are free.”

“I am just on loan. I have to return.”

“No. You never _have_ to return and you _can_ leave the Inquisition if you choose to.”

“Are you asking me to leave?”

“No, I just … I envy you.”

 _Envious? Of me?_ Dorian furrowed his brow. “Is the Inquisition your cage?”

Ava fell silent for moment, and Dorian resisted the urge to turn and face her.

“So many lives already depend on me. How many more though, am I putting in danger? I cannot bear the thought.”

“Your cause is noble. Everyone knows what's at stake. They know the danger and still they rally to your side.”

“I do not want anyone to die for me.”

“Then you shouldn't be so inspiring.”

“I inspire nothing. This thing on my hand is the only reason I am anything at all.”

“You my dear, underestimate how much you mean to us all.” Dorian raised a hand, a solitary flame springing to life at his command. “You are the flame that leads the Inquisition, lighting the way through the darkest of nights.” He held his arm up like a torch, light and shadows danced throughout the room. “You are no prisoner. We are beholden to you, because when you save us from Corypheus, you will set us all free.”

He aimed the fire at the hearth, and it erupted in flames before mellowing to a wan glow. He took another gulp of wine and put down the bottle to add more logs to the sickly fire.

“But what if I burn more than just the cage to free us? What if I also burn the path before us?”

“A brighter fire, let's us tread darker paths. Roads that need to be tread, to keep everyone else safe.” He leaned on the mantle, staring into the fire, thinking of what to say. Dorian knew he shouldn't linger on this topic. “I do this, not for my family, not for Tevinter, but for all of Thedas, and so that you do not have to stand alone.”

Dorian turned at the sound of crashing water and saw that the Inquisitor, had stepped out of the tub, her dark tresses slicked back and down her back. It's been a long while since Dorian had seen a woman naked. He mused that his opinion of the female form had not changed regardless of how lovely the Inquisitor was.

Ava's eyes were glittering though, she let the towel slip from her hands and made no effort at modesty.

“Have you ever been with a woman before?”

Dorian's eyes widened at the statement and he felt the tingle in his chest that he feels before a battle. He knew he was in more danger at this moment than if he were to go toe to toe with a dragon.

He changed the subject to avoid the imminent confrontation.

He gestured towards the windows. “The glass is exquisite, Ferelden made correct? The mabaris give it away, they put mabaris on everything.”

“You should see how the light shines through them in the morning.” Ava had closed the gap between them, her pearlescent skin luminous.

Dorian cleared his throat awkwardly. _Having an attractive man looking upon her nude form in her already vulnerable state must have addled her wits._

“Please, Dorian … stay with me tonight.”  Her eyes were pleading, she gripped the edge of his tunic.

“Ava …I ... it doesn’t really work that way …”

She stroked his exposed arm with a gentle touch, it was nothing that he wanted. Too soft, too pliant.

“I’m sure there’s other potential surrogates for this.”

“I …” Ava casts her gaze downward, embarrassed.

“Ah …” _I wasn't the first choice._

“Dorian, please, no one has to find out. Do not let me be alone, not tonight.” She unbuttoned the top two buttons of his robe before he reached up to hold her wrists.

_Ah, what was this feeling? Pity? If I died tonight, would Bull find another to warm his bed tomorrow. My thought is yes, but still ..._

“Ava, you don't really want this.” Dorian took a step back to delicately sidestep her advances.

“I do.” Ava did her best to sound convincing, and Dorian knew very well what that should sound like.

He walked over to her bed and picked up her sleeping robe. “Come here.”

She obeyed, and allowed Dorian to drape the garment around her shoulders.

“You are a remarkable woman, Ava, I mean that in the best way. In another life maybe, but what you ask for, I cannot give. You are my dearest friend, perhaps my only friend. And right now, I know that you need a friend.”

“I just, I don't know. I feel hollow. Yet somehow still fill full of fear.” Ava sunk onto the bed, breathing heavily.

“You afraid? She who stared down Corypheus in the face? You were close enough to spit in his eye.” Dorian lifted her chin with a finger, her eyes were glassy again on the verge of tears.

“And spit was all I could do. I was too weak. I am too weak.” She wrestled her head away from his grip to look down at the floor, ashamed. Ashamed of what, Dorian did not know.

“Weak? If you're weak, what does that make the rest of us?”

Ava got up to walk away when Dorian pulled her back towards the bed.

“Why do you pull me if you will not bed me?”

“I don't need to bed you to get you to sleep. I'll sing you a Tevinter lullaby.”

“You? Sing?” Ava raised her eyebrow skeptically.

Dorian nodded and scooted back to lay his head on the cushioned headboard and beckoned for her to join him. He wrapped his arms around Ava as she crawled up to rest against his body.

“You have to forgive the translation to common, some words maybe a reach.”

 

_“I hear there is a beast, He feasts on flesh and bone,_

_The townsfolk hide inside, No one will leave their home._

_I see them close shutters, I see them board up doors,_

_I see houses tremble, When the monster roars._

_Flee before the winds bring, The sound of winged death,_

_Searing song of fire, Escaping from its breath._

_No one will let me in, No one will let me near,_

_No one will shelter me, I am left alone here._

_The shadow creeps above, Foul darkness in its wake,_

_Mother what should I do? Mother what is my fate?_

_These peasants underfoot, Are beneath you and I,_

_Worry not for their tales, For their fate is to die._

_Although they are many, And we are only few,_

_Have no fear my child, For the Dragon is you.”_

 

“You sing that to children in Tevinter?” Ava’s eyes were wide, her mouth agape in shock.

“I personally don't sing it. But it was sung to me.”

“As a lullaby?” Ava snorted.

“Maybe it's more a nursery rhyme? Folk tale? I don't know about these things. It's not like I have children.” He gave a playful innocent shrug and Ava gave a friendly push before she put her head down and snuggled into his chest. After a moment she murmured “Thank you.”

Dorian brought his hand up to run his fingers through her hair. He thought about the last time he lay in bed next to a woman like this when he felt something wet against his chest, he looked down to see tears streaming down her face.

 _Oh Ava_. He meant to hold her only until she fell asleep, but it took a while before her breathing steadied and by then Dorian had drifted off as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had this as smut, but then my friend told me that Dorian would NEVER acquiesce to such a request and even though this is a fanfiction, it was too out of character.  
> It would have been hot though. I swear. lol.
> 
> OH, opinions on the Tevinter Lullaby?


	4. Curiosity is a Weakness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is masturbation in this, so, psuedo smut in this!

A soft orange glow crept into the room shining through the stained glass windows, washing the room in color. Dorian peeled an eye open and blew out a heavy sigh.”Wonderful.” He hadn't meant to stay the night, though, he made a mental note to confirm to Ava that yes, the windows were indeed splendid in the dawn.

He looked down at Ava, still curled up in his arms and felt inexplicably sated and then suddenly guilty. He extricated himself from her and hoped that it was still early enough that no one would catch him sneaking out of the Inquisitor's bed chambers.

 _Oh how the servants tongues would wag._ _I mean, I guess nothing stopped them before. How though, would I explain this to Bull?_

Distracted by the thought Dorian practically walked into Blackwall’s disapproving scowl as he opened the door to leave.

“Warden,” Dorian bowed with extra flourish side stepping Blackwall in the same motion and hoped to back out of this awkward situation unscathed. Instead he bumped into a guard posted outside Ava's door.  Blackwall kept his steely gaze on the mage in silence as Dorian spun on his heels and left. Dorian never thought much of the gruff Warden, but shivered at the thought of those penetrating eyes looking at anyone with lust. He wondered why Blackwall was here this early and surmised that he may have been Ava’s first choice. It would have been a bad choice considering their partisan history. 

 _Perhaps I should stop him._ Unrequited feelings make a mess of everything. He looked over his shoulder and stirred the pot further.

“The Inquisitor is very tired. I would let her rest.” Blackwall curled and uncurled his fist with restrained annoyance. Dorian couldn't help but smirk to himself as he walked across the Great Hall. He encountered a scullery maid staring at him, her eyes flashing to Blackwall as he entered the Inquisitor's quarters, clearly ignoring Dorian's advice. He felt the maid’s eye fixate on his disheveled appearance and he couldn't help himself as he let loose his most flirtatious wink. The maid yelped, shut her mouth and scurried off.

_Gossip. For. Days._

_****_

_What the hell is he doing here?_

Blackwall had been pacing outside of the Inquisitor's quarters for a good ten minutes. Unsure of whether to apologize for refusing her last night and leap into her arms while proclaiming undying love and affection or if he should just walk away. He walked away already once before. It was much easier then, they had just gotten to Skyhold. Playful banter was one thing but he knew that it would be dangerous in the field if either of them were to develop feelings for one another. He'd constantly look over his shoulder to her, and she would constantly be focusing on maintaining his barrier. Or, that was what he supposed.

 _W_ _ould she worry for me the way that I worry for her? I'm a giant fool. I cut her off before anything could start, but I never cut myself off. And then I had to watch as the Commander blustered his way into her bedchamber, taking what could have been mine._ Blackwall recognized those pangs of jealousy, he was a different man then. He could not help it though and wondered if he could have spared her all this pain, if he had kissed her on the ramparts all those months ago instead of turning away. _Would perhaps that dagger have been meant for me?_ It was a double blow, to the Inquisitor emotionally and politically. Her lover and her Commander.

 _Why can't I find middle ground? Why does it have to be all or nothing? The smile last night. It was so beautiful, yet so sad. I couldn’t help myself. Her touch set my soul aflame. She grieves. I should let her grieve,_ and just as he resolved to walk away, out comes Dorian with his hair undone, robes unbuttoned and wrinkled. _I thought he fancied men. What was he doing here?_

“Warden.” _Such a silky smooth voice, so slippery, like a snake._

Blackwall did not want to leap to a conclusion, but his mind already was. He weighed the possibility that she had sought his counsel on some matter and was wide awake at her desk. The commentary by Dorian, to “let her rest” seared into his mind, and fueled his desire to know what happened with the Inquisitor. He deigned to go inside.

“Inquisitor?” Blackwall breathed, but not a sound came from the room. He followed the winding path up the steps and peeked through the railing. Her lithe form lay still on the bed, the blanket riding low on the curve of her hip. He thought to leave but saw her bare shoulder slip out from under her shift. He stood perhaps a moment longer before turning to leave when Ava stirred.

“Dorian?”

Blackwall flinched at the mention of the mage's name. _How quickly she found another to warm her bed?_ He hastily made his exit, his heart sunken into his stomach.

***

“Blackwall, I've been meaning to speak with you.” He barely registered Cassandra’s voice, he had thrown his entire focus into morning drills that he had not noticed that she sidled up beside him.

“Came to critique my training regiment?” He already had the troops split up in pairs sparring with sword and shields. The constant clang of metal against metal and the occasional wooden shield was soothing in an odd way, and distracted him from his earlier thoughts.

“We've recalled Knight Captain Rylen but he is still two weeks away from arriving at Skyhold. We will need to choose his replacement at Griffon Wing Keep.”

“You're not suggesting sending me out there?” He frowned at the idea. He couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to see Ava everyday. He then sadly concluded that maybe he would be better off if he didn’t.

“Oh no, I was going to ask you to share the Commander’s duties with me until he arrives so that I have time to review the ranks for Rylen’s replacement.”

“The Inquisitor has already requested that I assist with the morning drills.”

“I can see that. I was not sure she was listening. She has been very distracted.” Cassandra herself looked off in the distance. Blackwall wondered if perhaps she felt some guilt considering that she had recruited Cullen to the Inquisition.

“I think that we all have been. It’s good to maintain a semblance of order.” Cassandra nodded at Blackwall’s comment as she surveyed the soldiers in their mock battles.

“We will also need to make Rylen's promotion to Commander official. I don't think the Inquisitor is ready for that conversation, but it must be soon. Preparations must be made for Adamant.” She gave him a sidelong glance before adding, “You weren't interested in the position were you?”

“I led once, before I was Warden Blackwall. I'm not looking to lead again.”

“I know she trusts you-”

“Wardens already have their own demons to fight.”

“Fair enough.” Cassandra walks over to a fighter and adjusts his posture.

Blackwall took this opportunity to stroll through the rank and file and made some corrections as well.

Two of the freshfaced recruits who looked like they would be more at ease with plows rather than swords stopped their practicing as he approached.

“Warden Blackwall, are you going to be the new Commander?”

“Knight-Captain Rylen will be your new Commander.” The youngster wrinkled his nose at the name.

“He was Cullen's second in command.”

“Oh, I’ve only met the Commander.” His words betraying how new he actually was.

Two other soldiers nearby stop their sparring, one resting his hands on his knees, the other rotating his shoulder. He added, “The Knight Captain will be a good Commander, but he's not Commander Cullen, may he rest at the Maker's side.”

“The plan for Adamant will remain as how Commander Cullen envisioned it.” Cassandra had ventured over, arms crossed in her usual stance.

“Let our victory at Adamant be for him then,” he lifted his sword in the air and yelled “For Cullen! For the Inquisition!”

“Aye!” The troops erupted in a cheer. “For Cullen! For Cullen! For Cullen!” The roar echoed throughout Skyhold.

****

Ava awoke, hearing the sound of someone on her stairs. She felt the absence of the warm body that had accompanied her throughout the night.

“Dorian?” _When did he sneak out?_ The footsteps left, not the rustle of robes but the faint sounds of plate and leather. She slept better than she should have, considering she threw herself at half of her companions. She was thankful that none of them had given into her and she dreaded having to find them all and apologize, especially to Dorian. _The whole reason why he left Tevinter was to avoid living a life while screaming inside and I practically forced myself on him._

She wasn't sure what had come over her. She remembered watching as Dorian glided over to the fireplace, his lithe form graceful like a dancer. After throwing some wood in, he stoked the fire with a poker, and exposed his well toned shoulder and bicep under the folds of his robes.

She smirked as she remembered a conversation about how armor was supposed to cover the body. Ava at the time was appreciating that it didn't. She felt a flush crawl up into her face as she had watched the Altus mage lean with one arm on her mantle staring enigmatically into the flames. The glow of the fire graced his perfectly tan skin, accentuating the outline of his form, except for where his dark hair melted into the shadows. He really was quite attractive albeit in a completely different way from her other suitors. Cullen was a lion, proud and protecting, Blackwall, a bear, strong and stalwart. Dorian was more a jaguar. Hunting from the shadows, sleek and silent and unwilling to be caught.

The water had simmered around her, growing unbearably hot and crashed over the sides as she hastily vacated the tub. The chill of the night air had hardened her nipples but she still felt an unbridled heat churning beneath her skin, a heat which she tried to sate with Dorian.

_What was I thinking?_

She warmed a basin of water with magic and wet a cloth to wipe her face and arms.   _Ugh_ , she dreaded finding them.

***

From her quarters she found the steps that lead her out to the parapets. The morning sun came at a favorable angle this time of year. It was warm and soothing even as the air was brisk and cool but that wasn't the reason why she walked the parapets. Ava used to secretly watch the Commander during his morning drills, relishing the power he exuded as he commanded. She walked down the familiar path and looked down into the courtyard to see a nearly familiar scene.

Instead of a blond haired leonine Ferelden barking orders to his troops, it was a dark haired and bearded man giving solemn instruction. She saw that Cassandra was with him as well and figured that this was probably not the best time to interrupt Blackwall about her transgressions last night. She did note however that the role suited him well. Ava turned to leave when she heard a cheer spread through the ranks.

“For Cullen! For Cullen!” She smiled wistfully as she headed towards his office.

***

Her palms were moist as she gripped the ladder to Cullen's loft. She hesitated only for a moment, loosening and tightening her grip before ascending to the top. The servants did well, there was no inkling of an assassination. The bed was made, but it was all wrong because the Commander never made it that way. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The room no longer smelled like him. It saddened her more than she thought as she swallowed back a sob.

Ava walked over to his chest beside the bed and opened it. She was assaulted immediately with the scent of Cullen. She rifled through finding a simple linen tunic and then shut the chest. She didn't want anymore of Cullen to escape. Ava shimmied out of her clothes and put on the tunic and stumbled towards the bed, half in a daze, seeking respite upon it.

She curled in the covers surrounded by his musk, faint traces of metal, leather, oakmoss and elderflower. Ava sighed as the memory of him enveloped her, imagining soft kisses and rough hands worshipping her body. She thought of his amber eyes and how they looked up at her from between her legs. She could feel his golden curls in her hands as she held his head against her sex. Ava's hands crept down her body feeling the swell of her small but supple breasts, the soft skin of her stomach, and the wet arousal between her legs. Three fingers circled the apex of her thighs as she imagined Cullen lapping at her hungrily.

The need she felt to feel him inside her again grew as she thought of the skilled roll of his tongue along her folds. She slid her other hand down to feel up and down her entrance as she rubbed her pearl with growing intensity. Two fingers dipped into the wetness, sliding in and out, increasing in speed and intensity. She moaned as she remembered writhing underneath him as his tongue bestowed pleasure upon glorious pleasure until she peaked and rode out her orgasm in blissful heaven.

***

“You know, in Tevinter we had servants who did our mourning for us, so that we could appear sincere and uncaring at the same time.” Ava blinked her eyes open at the sound of Dorian's voice. “This however, is probably more satisfying.”

She blushed heavily as she gathered the covers around her realizing that she only wore Cullen's short tunic.

“Modest now are we?” Dorian sat on the edge of the bed and crossed his leg. He absently twirled his mustache while his other hand held his elbow.

“Oh Ava, you can stop blushing. I know I'm irresistible to all genders and races. It's what happens when you are the product of proper breeding.”

“Dorian, I should have never put you in that position.”

“Darling, there is no position that I don't like.” Dorian winked saucily.

Ava giggled, happy to have her friend by her side. After the mirth subsided, Dorian asked more somberly.

“How _are_ you doing? You've been missing all morning.”

Ava heaved a heavy sigh, “I feel like I'm on the top of a mountain, and if I move in any direction I will fall.”

“Well, you are on top of a mountain, but if you move in any direction, I'm pretty sure Leliana will have a net to catch you.”

“I know, she's having me shadowed.”

“I wouldn't say 'shadowed’ as they are pretty out in the open. It's partially how I found you.”

“Only partially?”

“What can I say? I am gifted with intuition as well.”

“Can you tell me then, if this is all a dream?”

“If this was a dream, I'd be knee deep in debauchery.” Dorian tilted his head and shrugged. “Maybe balls deep is more accurate.”

“Dorian!”

“You asked.” He smiled not so innocently. Ava shook her head and looked down at the floor.

“I can't stop thinking that if I - we came back one night sooner-”

“Ava, this is not your fault. Guilt does nothing but fester. You and the Commander, it wasn't meant to be.”

“So banish him from my memory?”

“Think of him. Remember him. Mourn him, but don't blame yourself. There is no time to look backwards. We cannot change the past.” Ava glanced up at him, a cautious glint.

“But we are changing the future.” The words left her lips, but dug into her brain.

“We have to stop Corypheus before the world becomes as we saw it.” Dorian was oblivious to Ava’s growing awareness.

“Do you believe that the future we saw was real? Do you think that we are actually changing it?”

“How can you ask this now? After all we endured?”

“Because nothing feels real anymore.”

The words left Ava's lips louder than she intended and she was suddenly engulfed by the mage’s arms as he held her tight against his body. His scent of mint and verbena always had a calming effect on her but Ava's mind was racing far too much to be stilled.

“This is real Ava, as are those mountains outside the window,” Dorian rested his cheek on her hair. “Don't let despair rule the day.  You are our hope for this world.” She appreciated Dorian's attempt at comfort but she already knew what she needed to do.

“I'm ready to fall.”

“You won't fall Ava.”

“But I need to fall.” She pushed herself away from him and started dressing.

“Why?” Dorian's worried face looked up to meet Ava’s renewed sparkle.

“Because falling always wakes you up.”

***

“A visitor at last. There's little to see here, Inquisitor. I would know.” Alexius turned a page of a worn tome. His nimble mage hands gentle with the ancient brittle pages. “And the dungeons have been quiet as of late.” His eyes flicked up from the tome, to gauge Ava's reaction at his comment. She revealed nothing, her sense of purpose served as a wall to his jabs.

“You serve your penance dutifully.”

“And so it continues, every day the same. My life has no purpose without my son. You should have executed me.” He slammed the cover shut exhaling a puff of dust. The red painted leather binding flaked off in chips.

“You make that statement so casually. I endured a great deal of vitriol for keeping you alive.” Ava crossed her arms in an effort to show strength, however, her nervousness betrayed her as she began to pace outside his cell. “Would the outcry have been the same if I had killed you? Which choice would have been the merciful one?”

“You ask as if it would have mattered.” The Venatori scoffed.

“That is true. I made the decision that I thought was best for Inquisition. For the greater good. I was new to being the Inquisitor. I did not know that my actions could have widespread repercussions.”

“Lofty words from the self proclaimed Herald of Andraste,” Alexius's words were laced with venom.

“I never proclaimed to speak Andraste's will, I do believe though that the Maker has a place for us all.”

“And what is my place? Here, under a Southern Templar’s boot? Slave to inferior mages who know nothing of true magic?” The anger in his voice was palpable.

Ava stopped her pacing and faced the mage. Weaves of spirit surrounded them creating a shell around them, a barrier to wayward ears. Alexius's hostile posture softened as he leaned forward, Ava commanding his full attention. She measured her words before she exhaled in a low tone. “There is still time.”

“Time for what?” Alexius's eyes narrowed.

“I can reallocate resources. Give you more freedom. Let you live a life that's not bound by bars.”

“Do you think myself a fool to be wooed by idle promises? Though, I am intrigued as to what you will request in exchange?” His voice had a strange lilt to it, as if already acquiescing.

“They say we cannot change the past, but that is a lie. We are unraveling time as we speak.”

Gereon shook his head, “The past cannot be undone.”

“Yet every step that I take, is to fight the future that I have borne witness to.”

“You saw a future, a possibility, the path was not yet set.”

“But when we met you, you had already changed the path for the mages.”

“Ah,” Alexius smiled smugly. “Curiosity is a weakness, my dear Inquisitor. Do you know what it is you ask?”

Ava pressed her lips together before taking  a deep and steadying breath. “Show me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun!


	5. The Failed Attempt

“Inquisitor! We've been looking for you!”

Ava's head shot up from under Cullen's desk. She tried not to look surprised while simultaneously wondering if three doors made it harder or easier for someone to sneak up on you.

“Who was?” Ava stood brushing some dust and dirt off her hands, trying to look inconspicuous.

“Sister Leliana! You’ve banned us from Cullen's office and she requires the Commander's last report of the troops.” Ava raised an eyebrow.

“Banned huh?”

The runner stiffened, then gingerly backed up towards the door.

“Tell her I'm working on it.”

The runner stood just outside the door, lingering and looking in. Ava shifted under the uncomfortable gaze.

“Yes?” Ava summoned as much annoyance in her voice that she could.

“She said to bring you straight to her.”

“Then you can wait right there until I'm done”

Ava sat back down at the desk and began to sift through papers hyper aware of watchful eyes. She rifles through the papers as if she was reading them for the first time. Truth be told, she had already read through Cullen's reports yesterday and had a briefing ready for Leliana. She just hoped the show was good enough for her audience.

She spied Mia's partially written letter, and searched for the quill she had dropped the other day. She found it easier to write today even though the quill still felt as if it weighed the same as a druffalo.

 

> _Dear Mia,_
> 
> _It is with the heaviest of hearts and deepest of sorrows that I inform you of the loss of our Commander, your brother, Cullen Stanton Rutherford. He died for what he believed in. He died for the Inquisition. He died for me._
> 
> _Words cannot express how sorry I am, for I have trouble saying them myself.  He will not be forgotten. Our troops raise their swords in his name and all of our victories and future triumphs are his as well.  The Inquisition will persevere and defeat this threat upon the land. I swear to you, that I will find those responsible so that we can find some semblance of respite in justice. May he rest at the Maker’s side._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Inquisitor Ava Trevelyan_

Ava’s hands trembled as she sprinkled some setting sand on the letter. She placed her other hand over her heart expecting to find a gaping hole in her chest. The gentle thrum let her know that it was still there, though the erratic pace confirmed that it struggled to beat. She shook the sand off the letter and ran her fingers over his name. She folded it neatly and tucked it into her coat. One day she will send the letter, but that day was not today.

***

“Inquisitor.”

“Sister Leliana, I'm sorry if I've kept you waiting.” Ava held the reports out for Leliana. She sighed before taking them from her hands.

“I know you miss Cullen, I do too, but you mustn't hinder my activities. They listen to your direction over mine.” The spymaster peruses the documents quickly before setting them down on her desk using a dagger as a paperweight.  “I also know you two were closer than just Inquisitor and Commander, but that must not impact our operation. The Inquisition must carry on.”

She swallowed at the stern words but nodded in agreement as Leliana continued her lecture.

“Know that I was only trying to keep some of the burden off you. We need our Inquisitor now more than ever.”

“Is that why you have guards at my door Leliana? It makes it look like I am not safe in my own home.”

“Those guards are Cassandra’s doing. My agents are more subtle.” Leliana’s gaze was piercing. Ava wondered if she knew of her visit with Alexius. Leliana continued, “Imagine if you had been assassinated instead? We were lucky the assassin was impatient.”

“I don't need your shadows. I can handle myself.”

“I imagine that Cullen would have said the same thing. But what can you do against daggers in the dark?” Leliana gestured at her desk. The blade that lay on top of parchment was not of Inquisition make. She had not noticed earlier the coiling snake that wrapped the handle and the dried blood that still clung to it's edge. Ava involuntarily recoiled at the sight.

“Is that…”

“Yes. It is. We studied the blacksmith marks and craftsmanship which is indicative of Tevinter.”

“Tevinter? Then the assassin was Venatori? When were you planning on giving me this information?” Ava leaned on Leliana’s desk, anger apparent in her eyes.

“This is my burden. I will root out the corruption. You must focus on Adamant.” Leliana leaned on her desk staring right back at the Inquisitor.

“Have you at least spoken with Dorian?”

“Of course, I had him confirm the dagger’s origin. He sent some messages to contacts that he has in Tevinter.”

“What about Alexius?” Ava tried to match Leliana's level glare with her own. _How does this woman not blink?_

“Perhaps that would be prudent. Shall I send my interrogator?”

“I do not think that is necessary. He’s been a model prisoner, cooperative if a bit abrasive. However, we should separate him from the other Venatori, maybe we can clear out a room in the mage tower. I believe the one next to the library is currently vacant.”

“I normally give the reward after getting the information.” Leliana’s lip curled at this suggestion.

“Maybe this will provide him with ample motivation.” _Does she know?_

“Perhaps. Promises made need to be repaid.”

 _She must know._ Ava’s eyes strayed to the dagger on the desk. _But how much does she know?_

“Anything else Inquisitor?” Ava licked her lips.

“If you no longer need it, I would like to study the weapon further.” Leliana tilted her head before flipping up the dagger and with a twirl held out the hilt towards Ava.

“Please be careful. The edges are quite sharp and mages are not accustomed to a dealing with a double edged weapon.” Leliana’s words dripped with veiled duality.

“I am quite aware of what I am dealing with. Although I prefer bluntness to avoid the need for precision. Do you find that to be true as well, Spymaster?”   

“There is but One Truth. All things are known to our Maker. And He shall judge us for our lies.”

***

Cullen's office was dark, the lingering rays of dusk long gone, the torchlight from the ramparts the only things still burning. They would go out soon as well, as the castle goes to sleep. Ava made sure to lock all the doors and climbed up the ladder to his loft. The covers were as she left them, still rumpled, pale in the cascading moonlight.

She took out the serpentine dagger and drew a rune in the air while murmuring the incantation she learned from Alexius. The blade rose in the air floating in her palm as she continued the ritual. It began to glow and spin slowly, the colors shifting from red to green and back. Ava was unsure how long this would take remembering how it took Dorian some time to cast the spell when returning to the present. She intended to keep the portal much smaller and much tighter to her own timeline to keep the disruption as minimal as possible. Dorian’s warning that this magic could tear apart the world did not fall upon deaf ears, but with Cullen gone, it already felt torn asunder.

Ava kept channeling her magic, intricate weaves of spirit, storm, inferno and winter, swirling around the radiating emerald anchor on her hand. All the schools of magic laced together until a shimmering ripple appeared in the air, like a stone dropped in a pool of water. She halted it's growth so that it was barely more than the size of her hand and peered into the window to the past.

Cullen thrashed on his bed, sheets twisted around his legs, his chest bare and sweaty completely consumed by his nightmare.

“No … no!” Cullen murmured as he dreamt, the sound of his voice caused Ava’s heart to leap. Tears rimmed her eyes. She thought she would never hear that voice again. Then a strange scratching noise followed by an audible click interrupted her reverie. Ava heard the door shut and the creak of the floor boards as the intruder made their way through Cullen’s office.  She could see nothing from her vantage point and could only wait with bated breath as the rustle of clothing became louder.

“Cullen! Wake up!” She yelled his name but he did not hear, lost in the throes of his lyrium withdrawal dream. A shadow, then a dagger crossed in front of her portal, as the assassin made her approach on the oblivious Commander.

“No! Get away from him!” Ava screamed at the time rift, a futile gesture as the past could not hear her.

“I will not let you kill him again!” The crackle of magic enveloped her arm and she thrust her mark across the plane of the time rift. As her hand crossed the threshold the portal shifted, it's ripples fanning out wildly. The glow from her anchor intensified to a brilliant green with volatile electricity arcing out striking randomly. The dagger that was floating now spun out of control. A green slash of light appeared in the past, a rip in the air, a rift to the fade.

The assassin cried out, awakening Cullen and they both stared at the growing distortion in the air, a look of terror in both their eyes. Ava screamed as she tried to recoil her hand but the pull of the rift to her anchor was too great. She strained against the force trying to suck her into the past adding more magic to the fray.

Meanwhile Cullen had overpowered and thrown the assassin aside and Ava felt the shutdown of a Templar Spell Purge.

 _He's trying to hold the rift off on his own_.

The assassin though, was not so easily defeated and Ava watched as she stalked over to Cullen again. Ava roared and the portal and rift pulsed together, a time shuddering explosion rocking everyone off their feet in a wash of green light.

The stone walls of the tower in the past bellowed and buckled weakened by the blast. The dagger flew from the assassin's hand, skittering across the floor into a corner as parts of the roof crumbled and crashed down upon her. The burst of light was blinding but Ava's eyes were locked on Cullen’s prone form. The rift was gone, moonlight streamed in from the cracked ceiling, accentuating his deathly pallor.  

_Was it me? Did I kill him?_

The portal was rapidly shrinking, and Ava had to watch as Cullen faded from view, lost in the ripples of time. As the portal winked out, the spinning blade fell ricocheting off rubble and settling under a pile of rocks in the same corner as the past. Ava slumped to the floor, drained mentally and physically from the ordeal. Even through the haze of guilt and tears she wondered, _Where did all these rocks come from?_ as she passed out amongst the debris.

****

“Did you hear that?”

“Hmmm? Dorian don't stop.” Ironbull unceremoniously tugged Dorian's head back down to his cock. The mage shrugged out of Bull’s grip and turned to look towards Cullen's tower.

“That sounded like Ava,” Dorian furrowed his brow as he wiped his slick lips with the back of his hand. Bull groaned at the mention of Ava. This would be the second time she's cock blocked him in less than a week.

“It sounds like you are not focused,” Bull points at his enormous erection.

“Should we check on her?”

“Didn't you catch her pleasuring herself in his bed?”  The Qun sighs as Dorian frowns.

“Leave her be, there are some larger things to take care of right now.” Iron Bull sat up to lean into his lover pushing Dorian onto his back. The mage smirked as he threw his head back exposing his slender neck to a possible ravishment by Bull. The Qun wasted no time and savaged Dorian's neck with his mouth, licking, kissing and biting the mage’s taut skin. The heady scent of mint and verbena mixed with a spicy scent of clove? Cinnamon? Bull wasn't sure but it made him hunger for -

Both their bodies stiffened at the scream.

“Assassins?” Dorian rolled out from under the Qunari, as Bull punched the stone floor with his fist. He pulled up his breeches to follow Dorian out the door roaring, “Someone’s getting fucked tonight!”

***

“Would you please be a dear?” Dorian gestured at the locked handle and stepped out of the way for Bull to take charge.

He glanced up the stone walls of the Commander's tower to the swirl of colors emanating from the windows on the second floor loft.

**_*Thud*_ **

_What is she doing up there?_

*** _Crack*_**

_I … sense something-_

_***Crash*** _

Dorian’s attention switched to Ironbull and the shattered door, but he could not shake the strange feeling.

“Did you feel that?”

“Pfft. It's only wood,” Ironbull brushed off some wood splinters from his chest.

“That's not what I was asking,” Dorian waved his hand as he stepped over the remnants of the door. He scampered up a pile of rubble to reach the second floor unperturbed by the disarray.

Ava’s rumpled form lay in the middle of the shattered room, her dark hair splayed around her.

“She taking a nap up here? Wasn't she just yelling?” Dorian rolled his eyes at his lover, but then paused.

_Why is Ava up here?_

Dorian laid his hands on her forehead, gently brushing the few strands that clung to her balmy skin.

_Something is not right._

Dorian could not place it. The veil seemed thinner here, the fade felt like it was vibrating.

He stared at the broken ceiling and walls. It's been this way since they returned to Skyhold two days ago.

_Why does it feel wrong?_

“Bull, does anything feel different to you?”

“Well, I know I kid a lot, but my feelings for you -”

“No, not that, I meant, here, this room, right now?”

Ironbull gave a cursory look around and shrugged.

“Been this way since the rift appeared. Except for the Boss. Was this a trick question?”

“No. It wasn’t meant to be.” Dorian's breath hitched on those words. He said them once before, but couldn't remember when or why.

*****

*** _Knock knock knock_ ***

Ava woke with a start, her familiar surroundings not nearly as comforting as they should be.   _This is my room? Oh Maker._

Josephine cracked open the door and stuck her head in. “Inquisitor?”

“A moment please, Josephine.” Ava waited for the door to shut before sitting up in her bed.

_How did I get back?_

She rested her head in her hands recounting the previous night. The dagger, the rift, the explosion, his limp body on the floor.

_The ritual didn't work._

Her eyes filled with tears, they fell unbidden on her cheek. “Oh Cullen, I’m so sorry I couldn't save you.”

***

These morning briefings with Josephine we're usually quite enjoyable. It was nice to hear about the comings and goings of the Skyhold inhabitants after such a long time in the field. Of course it was interspersed with plans for war and nobles at galas but Josie knew to throw in some choice gossip to keep her attention. None of that was working today.

Josephine had the cooks make Ava, an indulgent omelette, with a rare mushroom that procured from a passing merchant. It really was quite fragrant but her stomach felt as if it was in a stranglehold after the failure the night before. Ava faded in and out of the conversation, a few nods thrown in to keep up appearances.

“You must make the replacement for Knight Captain Rylen official.” Ava sighed heavily, it was an appointment that Cassandra had recommended and all Ava had to do was sign her name.

“I will.” Ava absently poked her omelette with a fork.

“Inquisitor, you cannot put off this assignment any longer. If you are unwilling to recall Knight Captain Rylen from the Western Approach then you must choose his replacement from our current troops.”

 _Wait, what?_ The fork slipped from her grasp.

Josephine continued her speech unaware of the confusion written on Ava's face. “We must secure a second in command if Commander Cullen never wakes from his coma.”

 _Full stop ._ It suddenly felt as if a giant weight was removed from Ava's shoulders. She sat straighter in her chair, leaning forward towards Josephine and managed to mutter a quivering cluster of words. “What did you just say?”

“Inquisitor, I know you're still holding out hope that he'll awaken, but there’s been no change for 3 days.”

Ava's eyes began to tear. Josephine mistook it for sorrow, and comforted her, placing a hand over Ava's. What she didn’t realize was that the tears were of joy and the tremble in Ava's voice was hope.

_Cullen's alive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Now for them to get back together so they can smush faces.
> 
> There is smut in the next chapter, I'm still writing it so I hope I get it out within the next few weeks.


	6. What Never Was

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay. The reward is Smut in the beginning!

Cullen felt a warmth beside him as he woke. Ava was already looking up at him with those beautiful blue orbs, eyelashes fluttering prettily from the crook of his arm. She must have returned to Skyhold during the night and snuck into his arms while he slept. An uncontrollable smile spread across his face as he leaned in for the first kiss of many he had planned for this morning.

Ava smirked instead, playfully pushing him back down on the bed with the flat of her palms. She swung a slender leg in the air, kicking the linen blanket off the edge of the bed and mounted him, wantonly grinding her hips against his. Her tiny shift left little to the imagination, the scant fabric barely concealing her alluring silhouette.

Cullen loved every inch of the Inquisitor’s body. Her smooth ivory skin, radiated like the moon and having her astride his waist made him feel as if was aloft in the skies. Cullen was suddenly very aware of his morning stiffness and it was obvious that Ava was too.

“Full of energy this morning?” She ran her fingers across his bare torso and scooted back, lifting her rear in the air, to continue running her fingers down the muscles on his abdomen. She bent down low, perilously close to the throbbing bulge in his small clothes.

“Playing with fire aren't we?” Her fingers toyed with the hem, threatening to pull them down. Cullen found it strange that she didn't answer with her customary retort, but that momentary flicker of hesitancy faded when she pulled his breeches down unleashing his manhood. She looked at it with wonder, like she had never seen it before.

_What game is she playing?_ He bucked playfully, disrupting her silent reverie by almost poking her in the face with his erection. She smirked again, revealing that crooked smile that Cullen loved so much.

_I wonder what scheme she has concocted today? What could be her master plan? Is she trying to torment me by teasing me into a frenzy? Well, it's definitely working. She's been away for weeks. She must know that I am bursting with need. Bursting with desire to fill her, make her moan, and have her beg to the Maker for me to take her again._

His cock pulsed at the thought. This time Ava seized it with her hand and started a slow and sensual stroke. Cullen’s amber eyes started to roll into the back of his head, all brain function ceasing as Ava’s gentle fingertips caressed his manhood. Cullen whipped his lust laden eyes back to the dark haired vixen who’s hand was curled around him.

He couldn't restrain himself any longer, letting a low growl escape his lips as he watched her watch him. The straps of Ava’s shift slipped down her shoulders exposing the top of her creamy breasts as she leaned in close, parting her lips above the tip of his head. He could almost feel the heat of her breath on his exposed member.

_Ugh_. He would not beg, but he did indeed feel bold. He reached out to pull her down on to him and she obliged, her blessed lips devouring his cock.

“Maker’s breath, Ava, I've missed this - you.”

_Fool! That was probably the least romantic thing to say at this moment. I should distract her with my other talents. She’ll forgive me later for my poor choice of words. I'll make sure of it… again, and again if need be_.

He sighed, all the air in the world leaving his chest as Ava bobbed her head and pumped her delicate fingers. Her motions were steady and methodical today and he could feel his pleasure building up within him, like a wave about to crest. With a primal grunt he picked Ava up and flipped her on the bed. He pulled up her shift exposing her long legs and a lack of under garments.

_Ava, you minx._

He leaned in to feel the heat from her sex but found her not as wet as she’d normally be. He sought to remedy that immediately and lavished her clit with his tongue. Ava immediately threw her head back making an expression that was pure ecstasy as Cullen drew little circles against her pearl. He could come just watching her climax, her jet black hair splayed around her while moaning his-

_Wait. She still hasn't uttered a word. Is this some sort of challenge?_ If it was he was up for it, he twirled his tongue in a way that should have made her howl. He then gently eased two fingers into her now gushing cunt, working both the warm inside of her and stimulating the outside of her at the same time. Ava let out a throaty gasp, not the exact sound Cullen was trying to elicit but he'd take it.

_Where were all the little gasps and sighs today?_  Cullen resolved that he would have to do whatever he could to pleasure this lascivious woman. He licked at her folds, tongue caressing her lower lips, the taste of her arousal salty and sweet. Ava whimpered when he removed his fingers from within her, her eyes lidded with lust. He positioned himself at her slick entrance, running his head up and down her slit moistening the tip with her wetness. He watched as he penetrated her, gaining momentum with every thrust. The sound of flesh slapping together getting obscenely loud as he pistoned in and out of her. He didn't care if his aides walked in. He waited for this moment for weeks.

Their last conversation had been a fight over lyrium and Cullen was afraid that he would never get to hold her in his arms again. Now that she was here, he never wanted to let go. He wanted to see her writhing in his arms, shuddering at her climax. He wanted to feel her clenching around him, holding as tight to him as he was to her. He slipped his right hand down to massage her pearl,  flicking it gently and expertly, waiting almost expectantly for Ava to moan.

Again, surprised crossed her face as she threw her head backwards onto the bed, her body arching, her fingers pulling at the sheets.

There wasn’t any time for Cullen to process what that look meant as he was close to the precipice himself. He closed his eyes, willing himself from the brink to prolong the rutting as long as he was physically able. He wanted to remind his sweet Ava that he yearned for her and her alone. He had to make sure that she found her release first so that she could remember the pleasure that he could deliver with every touch, every kiss, every thrust.

He was resolute in his determination to convey his desire, but her rapturous core clung to his cock. The sensation was like velvet brushing against a flower. Soft in ways that one can only fantasize about, the petals yielding, revealing their swollen bud. He continued his stimulation of that most sensitive spot until the tips of Ava’s nails dug into his shoulder blades, and she let loose a keen as she shuddered around him.

He could feel the pressure swelling inside of him, trying to find release through any orifice. Colors swirled in his vision amalgamating in a pure white hot explosion as the sensation of her climax propelled him past the point of no return, careening over the edge of his pleasure. The eruption of pent up lust lasted for what seemed like an eternity and with a satiated grunt he spent the last of his seed deep within her. A sly smile slipped across his face at the double dose of witheroot she would have to take today to counteract his expenditure.

Cullen slumped beside the Inquisitor contentedly, the thudding of his heart slowing to a steady rhythm. He lifted a hand to her hair, running his fingers through the silken strands. He posted up on his elbows looking down at Ava, getting lost in the ocean of her eyes. They were always a mystery to him and today was no different. The longer he stared into them, the more colors seemed to manifest. The deep shade of blue bordered on violet, but would often change with the time of day. This was the first time though, that they looked flecked with red.

“Why won’t you speak? I miss the sound of your voice.” In lieu of an answer, she threaded her hands behind his neck to pull him down to press against her. Cullen resisted the urge to kiss her again and forcibly put his own feet on the ground.  
  
“Ava, I must go, I've already tarried too long. The troops await their Commander.” She pouted as he picked up the coverlet from the floor and unceremoniously flipped it to cover her. She pulled it down and gave him the most come hither stare that he has ever seen her give.  
  
_Maker she's making this hard. Other things too._ His cock twitched as if to accentuate the point.  
  
Cullen smirked as he headed towards his storage chest with great reluctance.  He hunched over hunting for his undergarments for his armor when he felt her svelte arms envelop his body. His large calloused hands dwarfed her slender wrists as he pulled them up to plant a kiss on each one before shrugging them off.  He felt the arms drop away and blessedly did not try again. Cullen was sure that he would not be able to withstand another attempt from his beloved.

***

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose as he shut the door to his office.

_What's gotten into Ava?_

He did all that he possibly could to escape her grasp even though he didn't _want_ to. Those few precious moments this morning were not enough to sate the longing that had accumulated while she was trouncing demons and closing rifts across Thedas. It was only his obligation to his troops and the Inquisition, not just the Inquisitor, that motivated him each day, and plucked him from her side this morning.

With the thought of his troops Cullen peered into the courtyard as he made haste along the ramparts fully expecting to witness his troops goofing off at the lateness of his arrival.  He almost stumbled on an errant cobblestone when he saw the orderly lines of recruits practicing footwork to the orders of a dark haired and bearded officer as he put them through their drills.

_Blackwall_?

Cullen was certainly confused since the warden had shown no interest in leading the troops, although, Ava did tell him that when they recruited Blackwall he was trying to train some farmhands. The Commander continued down the stair and approached Blackwall from behind, his troops paying him no mind.

“Warden.”

“Commander.” Blackwall had turned to regard Cullen but his expression remained taciturn.

“Thank you for keeping idle hands at bay.” Cullen shifted his weight, dreading to ask the next question.

“Yes.” Stated Blackwall.

“But why are you leading the morning drill? Did someone request you to?” _Does Cassandra doubt me? Has she lost faith?_

“I do only as the Inquisitor bids of me.”

“The Inquisitor? But I’m …” Cullen shifted his weight, genuine surprise displayed on his face.

_Oh you saucy minx, you planned to have Blackwall perform my duties so that we could relish the day together. We shall see who gets the last laugh now._

“Carry on then Warden Blackwall.” Cullen's face could not contain his smile as he marched back to his office and back into the comfort of Ava's arms. What the Commander didn't notice however was that his troops stopped their rigid movements and watched, along with Blackwall, in stifling silence as Cullen ascended the stairs towards his tower. 

***

The Commander anxiously opened the door to his office, grinning wickedly at the plans that he had for his dear Ava and for the second time that day he was taken aback.  Cassandra sat calmly in his chair turning over pages of parchment, an air of ambivalence on her visage.

“Seeker, what pray tell are you doing here?”

“Commander.” Cassandra glanced up at him as she absently flipped a page of the report.

Cullen stepped forward but stopped next to the ladder, suddenly remembering that Ava may be trapped in his loft. He rubbed the back of his neck, his nervous tick that Ava had always teased him about, while he mustered the courage to ask the seeker if she had seen the Inquisitor. Before he could utter a phrase, he noticed the content of the papers Cassandra held in her hand.

“Are those my reports from our garrisons and the patrol assignments for today? You've never asked for those before, is there a reason you are reviewing them?” Cullen grimaced, those were his responsibilities. If Cassandra was doing them, she must believe he is no longer capable.

“I do only as the Inquisitor bids of me.”

_Strange, that is the same answer that Blackwall gave._ Cullen swallowed and  subconsciously gripped the pommel of his sword, his Templar instincts making themselves known. With a wary glare he climbed up a few rungs to check if the Inquisitor was still in his loft. The bed was made and there was no sign of Ava. Cullen frowned at the sight. The Inquisitor wasn't known for being the neatest.

_Something is terribly wrong._

He slid back down the rungs to confront Cassandra and froze at the base of the ladder. He had not heard the movement of her armor, or the thud of her boots across the wooden floor boards. He was sure the doors had not opened or closed, yet Cassandra was gone.

*****

Solas tilted his head as he gazed at the blank canvas of the curved wall surrounding his abode. Colors swirled until a bright landscape  formed, an idyllic countryside, skies unmarred and unbroken. It melted again and reformed into a different portrait, one of desolation and destruction, the slash in the heavens stained with blood. He would need to procure more black and red paint in order to paint this possibility.

With a wave of his slender fingers the depictions were side by side. Solas held a hand in front of each mural and brought his hands closer together until they overlapped merging into a realistic depiction of the current state of Thedas, imperfect and tainted. A sudden crack formed along the length of the painting shattering as if glass and the multicolored shards rained down upon the floor revealing a mirror behind.

Solas took a step towards his reflection in the mirror, the crunch of broken possibilities under his bare foot. Though the movements in his reflection were the same, his appearance was not. He was dressed in his regular nondescript attire, looking as much as an apostate as dalish. The figure in the mirror was garbed in a wolf pelt and an air of arrogance over and above what would be normal for Solas.

His narcissistic reverie was interrupted by the appearance of the Commander in the background marching with his head down from his door to the Great Hall. Solas's surroundings dissipated into the fade, as the distraction of the trespasser interrupted his concentration. The mage whipped his head around, to see if the mirror had lied, but there was the hulking Ferelden, lost in his own thoughts leaving through the door.

_How ?_

Solas paced to the door and opened it to step into the hall but there were no signs of the Commander at all. 

*****

_I don't sense any blood magic. Has my Templar sense been depleted with the absence of lyrium? Or is it far worse. What were the signs of possession?_

Cullen continued his march towards the Inquisitor's quarters. He wasn't sure where to go or what to do but he knew he needed to find her post haste. His feet knew the path which let his mind wander, each thought more disparate and more distressing than the one before.

_No. No. It can't be. But the Inquisitor… I've never known a stronger storm mage. But the anchor… does it draw them? Why didn't I pay more attention. I am the Commander. I am a former Templar. It is my duty. My responsibility._

He cut through the mage quarters unaware of Solas's presence, his thoughts dominating his walk over to see the Inquisitor. He did not have to walk far though as soon as he entered the great room he saw the Inquisitor laying back on her throne, sprawled languidly in the chair, leg thrown over a carved wooden arm. Although she was fully clothed, the pose was suggestive and seductive, and she practically leered at Cullen as he reached the foot of the steps. Cullen's hand was already on the hilt of his broadsword, his grip tight and unyielding.

Ava rarely sat on the throne ever, and even when Josephine made her, it was with great reluctance and much protest. Ava would always argue, the weight of her decisions should be the same whether delivered standing or sitting. One time she added that there were other places that she'd much prefer to sit and cast a sidelong glance in his direction. It took all of his focus to not react to the comment, which was difficult considering the scandalous look on Josephine's face and the stifled giggle from Leliana. Cullen would have blushed at the memory except he was preoccupied with the smug look on the Inquisitor's visage.

Her face had widened into a beckoning smile as Cullen approached the throne. Ava stretched out her body accentuating her lithe figure, the fabric clinging to her form.

“You are a demon.”

Ava tilted her head at the accusation, her eyes glittering as they roved up and down the soldier.

“You have possessed the Inquisitor.”

A quirk in her eyebrow, now accompanied the smirk on her face.

“Ava, if there is any part of you remaining, I beg of you, please fight it.”

“Do not make me slay you my love.” Cullen whispered those words as he flexed his grip on his sword, his willpower dipping slightly with the realization of what he might have to do.

The Inquisitor stood, her darkened eyes fixed on the Commander, and took a leisurely stride down the steps of the dias.

After the first step, Cullen started reciting the Chant of Light, letting the familiar words strengthen his resolve.

“ _Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,_

_I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm_.”

Ava rolled her eyes and continued to saunter closer.

“ _I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder_.” Cullen backpedaled as he spoke matching the Inquisitor's slow but advancing gait.

_No Ava no._

Cullen tried to keep his distance, not willing to let the Inquisitor get within striking distance.

_The Inquisitor cannot be an abomination!_ _If she is… All hope is lost. The world cannot survive without her._

He drew his sword and assumed a defensive stance as the psuedo Ava squared off against him.

She stopped to shake her head raising a finger in the air to gesture “no” like a parent scolding a child.

“You trespass upon this world!”

_And you make a mockery of my sweet Ava. Perhaps this is some sort of trick of Corypheus? An imposter? I refuse to believe the Inquisitor would ever succumb to a demon. She is strong. Stronger than I._

Suddenly Ava appeared at his side, close enough to whisper into his ear.

Cullen’s rusty but still highly attuned templar reflexes cast a smite towards her but the spell sputtered and failed.

_I've gone too long without my lyrium. We are doomed if I cannot save her. Everything the Inquisition has built will be for naught._

He swung his sword in an arc, which the demon caught with her right hand calmly while her left hand landed casually on his forearm. It was unnaturally cold, a far cry from the earlier warmth. He shivered at the thought but found that his muscles ached with prickling stiffness, the spread of frost from her touch had immobilized him. He felt the hilt of his sword slip away as the weight of the weapon surpassed the grip of frozen fingers and clattered to the ground.

“ _I cannot see the path._

_Perhaps there is only abyss._

_Trembling, I step forward,_

_In darkness enveloped_.”

An eerie laughter reverberated in the empty hall. “Your prayers do nothing but echo _here_. I wonder if one day you'll forget the words. I do grow weary of your droning.” The demon purred, it's voice otherworldly. An echo of both Ava's and the demon seductress.

Cullen grew numb at the sound, it was reminiscent of a voice he had heard before in Kinloch Hold over ten years ago. Back then it was the voice of the Hero of Ferelden, intermingled with the demon's as it tormented him using his secret love for Solona Amell against him. This time his love for the Inquisitor was being used against him.

_This is not real. This is a nightmare._

The imposter released the Commander to stand before him, her hungry eyes searched for a prurient response as she caressed her own body, hands running over supple curves and across voluptuous valleys.

“Do I really look like an abomination? I thought you knew me so well.” Cullen seethed with anger, as he felt his muscles begin to thaw.

_Am I doomed to replay this scenario for my entire life? Is this my void?_

“Cullen, why do you deny me?”

“You are a demon.”

The desire demon pouted, full pillowy lips emphasizing the expression as she started to circle Cullen like a predator to prey.

“You've already coupled with me. I want more. I need more.” She squeezed her bosom, accentuating her cleavage and leaned towards him letting out a lascivious moan.

“I've denied your kind before. I deny it now.”

“Sometimes you are so adorable.”

Cullen ignored the taunts and continued his prayer dropping to his knee, attempting to escape the dream. He felt sick knowing that he had already given in, so easily fooled even after his experiences at Kinloch. He sought respite in the Chant, wearing the words like armor.

“ _Though all before me is shadow,_

_Yet shall the Maker be my guide._

_I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond_.”

“Ha! The irony of your words.” The laugh startled Cullen, but not as much as the tender way the demon lifted his chin, to gaze into his eyes, the torrent of red meeting his amber.

“You don't even know do you?” The demon almost sighed, a touch of fleeting compassion escaping her lips. “It is not _I_ that trespass. I merely took the opportunity to give you all those delicious desires that you won’t allow yourself to have. You cannot tell me that you didn’t enjoy it.”

“I shall wake from this nightmare like I have before.” Cullen shook his head, wrenching it away from her grasp.

“So ungrateful. And all I was trying to do is make eternity hospitable. You cannot wake from this slumber. You are adrift, abandoned here by your Maker.” The demon's words were full of pity.

“Lies. You cannot keep me here.” Cullen closed his eyes and held his clasped hands to his forehead, shutting out the demon’s voice.

“ _For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light.”_

“-Maybe the Maker sent you here,” the demon pleaded.

_“And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost_.”

“-You cannot be lost in my arms,” there was a softness in the demon’s voice.

“ _I am not alone_.” An image of the real Ava appeared in his mind.

“-No you are not.” A diminishing admission.

“ _Even As I stumble on the path._ ” His Ava held out her hand.

“-We can be together.” A whispered promise.

“ _With my eyes closed._ ” His Ava gently touched his face.

“-Forever.” The faint words vanishing into the distance.

“ _Yet I see.”_ His Ava ran her thumb upon his scar.

-Silence.

_"The Light is here_.” Cullen sensed a radiance blossoming behind the closed lids of his eyes, and a warmth enveloping him. He dared to open his eyes, hoping that it was the light of dawn upon his face. Instead, it was the solemn rays of dusk, the sun hanging low on the horizon, a drop of blood in the molten sky.

He was surrounded by what appeared to be the entirety of the Inquisition, all facing a giant pyre in the center. The Skyhold courtyard was almost unrecognizable to him.

Cullen's breath hitched as he saw Ava on the top of the pyre, cupping the face of some unfortunate soldier.  

He looked at all the somber faces around him, and took a step closer to the pyre. From his vantage he could not see the man clad in armor, just the templar blanket draped across his legs.

“Ava.” She did not hear him, or could not hear him. In fact, no one appeared to hear him, or notice him. Cullen felt a twinge of despair start to settle in his stomach. Ava stepped down off the pyre and walked straight by him as if he were a ghost. Cullen spun around, studying her face as he stood in front of her. Her gaze was distant and although she was not currently crying, he could see the tear stained rivulets trailing down her face.

He reached out to wipe the remnants on her face but stopped short of actually touching her. He wanted to hold her, he wanted to comfort her, but he was afraid that touching her would make this a reality. She cried into Dorian’s embrace as she uttered the chant of light.

_“Draw your last breath, my love.”_

Cullen turned towards the burning pyre and walked straight into the fire, oblivious to the heat. As he expected, he did not feel a thing.

_“Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky.”_

He saw the glint of his armor first, then his faithful sword. He continued climbing until he stood before his prone form. He watched as the fire crept over him, the lashes of fire consuming him.

_“Rest at the Maker's right hand,”_

He looked up into the distance and saw the shadowy and twisted spires of the Black City floating in the sky.

_“And be Forgiven.”_

“This is not a dream.” The words fell on deaf ears. His presence only a memory.

_This is the fade. And I am dead._


	7. Afterthought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Ava's POV

“Inquisitor.”

Ava ran her fingers through the golden tufts of hair on Cullen's head. It was probably the hundredth time she did so today, but she just could not stop.

“Inquisitor, you've been here all morning. The war council-”

“Can wait.”

“They are here.”

Ava sighed. After losing the Commander once, she refused to let him die again, but perhaps she was being unreasonable. She refused to leave his side, wanting to make sure that he was being looked after.  They of course all gave her curious stares as she asked about what was wrong, what they have done, and why they haven't tried “this”?

“Herald, we’ve done all that, we’ve had the best healers care for him, even Madame de Fer suggested a poultice, that we’ve applied to no avail.”

She squeezed his hand, relishing its warmth before turning to face her advisors. Josephine's eyes were warm but with a touch of annoyance. Leliana's however were scrutinizing. Ava wondered how much of the previous timeline remained in the spymaster’s memory bank. Leliana was astute and able to detect variances in behaviors and responses to ferret out lies and Ava was sure her stumbling and surprise at many things have opened the door for such skepticism.

“Inquisitor, you cancelled the last war council and ignored our requests for half the day. This cannot go on.”

“Corypheus still lurks, as does the Venatori. They will wait for no one.”

“Lecture me all you want. I know more than anyone what is at stake.” Her eyes flicked quickly to the Commander laying still at her side. “The plan of attack for Adamant was already drawn up, the trebuchets are on the move. Even if we mobilize tomorrow we would overtake them.”

“Inquisitor, that is one of the many things we need to discuss. The plans were lost when the tower was destroyed, and we need to pool our knowledge of the details so that we can brief Knight Captain Rylen when we reach the Western Approach. What trebuchets do you speak of?”

_Andraste’s ass. Was that a report that I read on Cullen's desk?_ Ava almost took a step backwards but stopped herself before she could. She knew she couldn't keep acting surprised or spout knowledge of things that may have not happened.

“Is the envoy to Jader still here?”

“Yes… we have dinner plans with him tonight-”

“After you cancelled on him last night to go carousing.” Leliana interrupted Josephine, and slung an accusatory look at Ava.

“Carousing? … I …” _What the hell?_

“Inquisitor, you've been acting very strange.”

“Are you unwell?”

“I’m just ... a little tired, but I am in better condition than some.” She stood a bit straighter, hoping that she successfully diverted the interrogation.

“I'm afraid there is little time for rest. Our scouts have reported a strange disturbance in the air just outside of Skyhold.”

“It is similar to what you reported at Redcliffe.”

_Similar to Redcliffe? But that means …_ Ava’s eyes doubled in size.

“We fear they may open up into rifts, like the one that incapacitated the Commander.”

“Or that Corypheus is preparing for an attack.”

“This is dire news indeed. Let us convene.” Ava nodded her head, keeping her head down as she ushered them towards the exit. She hoped that they did not see the shame writ upon her face.

_If only they knew. What would they think of their Inquisitor?_

*****

Ava stood in the middle of the debris field that was the Commander’s bed chamber and office. His belongings had been temporarily moved to one of the other tower rooms along the parapet while the quartermaster checked the structural integrity of the walls. Skyhold was strong but the combination of rift and time magic proved too much for it.

She had wandered here again after finding the tear stained letter that she had written to Mia in her pocket during the council meeting. To her surprise, in place of the heartfelt words, it was blank. Josephine chided that she needed to carry a quill or charcoal in order to make the parchment useful, and Ava just smiled at the joke and replaced the parchment in her pocket. She had written that letter on his desk the day after he was killed. It made sense that the letter didn't exist since he had not died in this timeline but something gnawed at the corner of her mind like a mabari to a bone.

The space felt dirty, the walls permeated with the residue of magic. Any Templar could feel it. Any novice could feel it.

She summoned the memory of the explosion and his prone form but instead of despair, she felt hope. She had changed the past. She had changed his future. She should be happy but she wasn't.  She felt tears well up in her eyes again but she wasn't sure why.

“Josephine called for me. Said you were acting odd. Asked me to poke and prod at you and then report back to her.” Dorian called up to her from the first floor.

“She is certainly no Leliana if she neglects that sometimes I'm not a man for subtlety.” The mage agilely hopped up to the second floor arriving with a spin that sent his robes aflutter.

“If I was, I'd still be in Tevinter, playing the role my father always intended,” Dorian’s eyes glazed ever so slightly, “while rutting men clandestinely behind a stack of books in my study.” He spotted some dust on his ivory robes and feigned worry that his impeccable appearance was in danger of faltering.

Ava, however, felt his eyes surveying her as he was brushing and knew that during all his banter, he was secretly assessing her. She let him take in the scene in front of him. The mighty Herald of Andraste clutching a blank piece of parchment in the ruined remains of her lover's abode. She sniffled as she ensconced the paper back into the folds of her coat, straightening as he approached her with his arms open. He had picked up on her melancholy mood and softened.

“I don't know why they don't give you a moment's rest. We did just come back from the field. And you did just find your lover unconscious in his room with another woman. In fact, a dead woman. They have to expect you'd be a torrent of emotions, some bad, well maybe all bad.”

_Wait, did they think that Cullen and the assassin were sharing a bed?_

“What happened to the woman?”

“Not still jealous are we?”

“Dorian can you just tell me where she is?” Dorian arched an eyebrow, his expression bordering incredulous.

“We set a pyre and burned her.”

Ava recoiled. _So, I_ _killed her in this reality. Would anyone believe me if I speak ill of the dead?_

“Inquisitor, is something wrong? Josephine told me your memory was failing you but I balked at her.”

“What if I told you that woman was an assassin?”

“An assassin? How do you know this?”

“I-” _I can't tell him. “_ There was a dagger.”

“What dagger?”

Ava scoured her thoughts, scraping the very walls of her brain. She stood still while replaying the scene in her head, which to Dorian looked like the Inquisitor had gone dull. He stepped forward his face riddled with concern when the Inquisitor snapped out of the daze and said “There.” Ava padded over to the corner and kicked a few loose rocks before squatting and heaving a chunk of rubble aside. Sitting in the shadows underneath was a battered and dirty dagger still stained with Cullen's blood.

Ava’s hands hovered over the weapon as she started to tremble again in its presence. The sight of his blood still upon the blade reminded her of what once was.

“Ava?” Dorian placed his ringed hand on her shoulder as he looked down at the dagger. He felt a strange resonance emanating from the blade but before he could think much more of it, Cole appeared behind them.

“Lost. Found. Lost again.”  

“I’m not lost,” smirked Dorian.

“Not you. The lovers. Two lives, one with death.”

“That was mostly coherent. Is that a first for you?”

“His shield, a prayer. His fear, a lie. How can someone be both dead and alive?” Cole looked straight ahead, his words uttered with an eerie deadpan.

“And there it is.” Dorian stood up from his crouch, fingers tapping his chin as he watched Cole with light amusement.

“A dreamless sleep. A sleepless dream. Memories that shouldn’t be. It’s wrong. You know it’s wrong.”

“Cole. Stop.” Ava commanded, alarmed at what he may unintentionally reveal. Cole blinked at Ava, as if suddenly coming to.

“They are looking for you.”

“Who is looking for me?” Ava could practically hear the blood coursing in her veins, Cole making her uneasy.

“Inquisitor!” A breathless scout yelled up from below. They peered over the edge at the tired soldier below. “The disturbances! One of them has turned into a rift! We’ve sent word to your inner circle! They are assembling at the gate!”

“Cole, please take this, and give it to Sister Leliana.” Ava looked around quickly, then reached in her pocket for the blank parchment. She used it to pick up the dagger and folded it upon itself before handing it to him. “Tell her this dagger was used to assa-” Ava hesitated and recollected her thoughts. “Tell her I will come by to see her after we close the rift.” She waited until Cole set off towards the tower his hat bobbing up and down into the distance before turning to Dorian.

“What was that all about?”

“It doesn't matter right now. We have a rift to close and some demons to smack between the eyes.”

Dorian smiled and unholstered his staff from his back. He twirled it deftly in the air before grinning at Ava.

“I think I would be very bored without you in my life.”

*****

The crackle of green energy ripped diagonally across field, it's pulse of magic weakening with every demon wave they clear.

“This should be the last wave,” shouted Solas.

Ava spun her staff before slamming it into the ground, the chain of lighting fanning out and striking the demons as they spawned from the ground. There was a flash of silver and a howl of pain as Varric pummelled the monsters with Bianca. A roar from Blackwall alerted Ava to the demon poised behind her. Before she could lift her staff to block the blow, the Warden had smashed his shield against the wretched beast, resulting in a sickening crunch as the demon’s body crumpled to the floor.

Ava did not waste the opportunity and thrust her arm into the air calling to her the magic from the fade. The rift shimmered as it began to implode bubbling and frothing more than usual. The volatility caused Ava to steady her arm with her other hand as she pumped more magic through the anchor. She weaved a delicate thread of spirit into the intricate lacing of magic in order to stabilize the rift before closing it. As soon as the portal solidified, a pair of tired golden eyes stared back at her through the rift.

“Cullen?”

The Commander blinked in surprise as if he heard his name. He lowered his raised sword and reached out with a tentative hand to touch the portal. His fingers never reached the threshold as the rift resumed its collapse inwards.

“No Cullen!” Ava screamed as the energy folded upon itself dissipating into the sky, leaving the Inquisitor on her knees and gasping for air. She flinched as Blackwall put his arm around her, letting him help her back to her feet.

“Was that Cullen?” Dorian had blinked in surprise.

“It definitely looked like Curly,” Varric hefted Bianca to his shoulder.

“Interesting.” Solas tilted his head as he studied the space vacated by the rift.

_What does it mean?_ The whole experience was too close to what Ava had witnessed the night of the ritual. Blackwall gently rubbed her shoulder while she steadied her breathing. It felt like an eternity before Ava could turn to the elf who knew the most about the fade.

“Solas, if we saw him through the rift, does that mean he’s in the fade?”

“A likely conclusion. It explains why I saw him there a few days ago.”

“A few days ago! Why haven’t you said anything?” Ava's temper flared.

“No one asked me.”

“Cullen's in a coma, it would make sense that he is dreaming,” added Blackwall.

“It is not that simple. I cannot explain but he is not dreaming. Neither is he present.” Solas held one arm behind his back as he spoke.

“I'm sorry, the role of cryptic speaker has already been fulfilled by Cole,” sassed Dorian.  

“Dreamers are subject to the fade. The dream world is created for them not by them. He is not a mage, but he is walking the fade like he is one, with eyes open. He has not woken up naturally. Perhaps it's because he doesn't know how.” The last sentence was whispered, spoken more like a musing to the elf and no one else.

“Why is this significant? People get injured all the time and sleep for days. It's not an uncommon thing,” questioned Varric as he cleaned the last of the demon splatter off Bianca.

“It's not what his body is doing. It's what his mind is. He should not be able to control the fade.”

"Should not?" Ava picked up on Solas' phrasing.  "Are you saying that he can?”

“He's a Templar, they take lyrium,” stated Blackwall, as if that would be the end of the conversation.

“Just taking lyrium does not let non mages enter or command the fade at will.”

“This conversation is beyond me. Come on Blackwall, I'm sure it's beyond you as well.” The Warden shrugged and squeezed Ava's shoulder before heading back to the keep with Varric. She was confused by the sudden apparent affection from Blackwall, and very worried about the smirk on Dorian's face. She would have to ask him later, after figuring out how to save the Commander.

“If it was just a dream, he would have awakened by now.” Ava sorrowfully held her own arms, an embrace that she wished was not her own.

“Perhaps we should all return to the keep, and let the war council know of our findings.” Dorian inclined his head towards the departing warrior and rogue.

“I can consult with Fiona as well.” Solas glanced around the empty field before starting back towards the keep, on the heels of the other companions.

Ava, however, found it difficult to move, her eyes unwilling to part with the last image of the Commander. She wondered what he could possibly be thinking, a lone sentient soul, in a sea of spirits and demons. His gaze was melancholy and despondent, as if he had already lost hope, but there was a flicker of recognition on his visage that renewed Ava’s own purpose.

_Cullen, we have not forgotten you._

She tried to will the thought through time and space, across the veil to her Commander.

*****

The tension in the air was as thick as a fallow mire swamp. All eyes were on the livid Inquisitor as she made her displeasure known.

“Vivienne, how could you even suggest that?” Ava could barely contain her anger as she paced around the war room, the air tingling with her barely restrained magic.

“There's no other way to boost his innate templar abilities.” Vivienne spoke as if she was planning an afternoon tea party, and not forcibly injecting the Commander with lyrium. The inner circle mages and advisors were all on edge from the moment that the former Court Enchanter mentioned it.

“It's not right to make that decision for him.”

“I’m not suggesting that we give him more than what he's already been taking. In fact he's already missing half a weeks worth and he may diminish even more from the lack of it.”

Ava glanced at Cassandra, unsure of what can be said, or what should be said. The Seeker acknowledged the silent direction and cleared her throat before speaking.

“The Commander is no longer taking lyrium.”

“Was that a wise decision? Was no thought put into how this could affect his ability to command?”  Even though it was a question Vivienne's tone was imperious.

“We had an agreement, long before Trevelyan was made Herald. As a Seeker, I could evaluate the dangers-”

“That was careless of you, to put the Inquisition in such a precarious situation. What if he is unable to overcome the addiction? What if he descended into madness, would our armies be consigned to follow the orders of a lunatic?”

“Then it was all our faults. Leliana and I knew as well.” Josephine tried her best to mitigate the situation, as the diplomat tends to do, but it was as if she had not spoken.

“And I trust Cassandra's judgement, as does the Inquisitor.” Leliana's words did nothing to comfort the growing impatience within Ava.

“I heard many a ' _what if's_ ’ Vivienne.”

“And you need to hear one more. What if this could save him? Perhaps he can snap out of the fade once he has the lyrium in his blood.”

“After all he’s been through, you would throw it all away against his will?” Ava understood now how Madame de Fer, received that nickname.

“It would destroy him. He’s come so far.” Cassandra added, still trying to fight the good fight.

“It could destroy him regardless, not many Templars can escape the call of lyrium.”

“Cullen has a chance to break that leash, to prove to himself, and anyone who would follow suit, that it’s possible. He can do this.” Cassandra's speech was impassioned but the Iron Lady was not impressed. She leaned back and crossed her arms, her presence larger than her stature.

“Not if he dies first.” The words were spoken like daggers to Ava’s heart.

“I won't let you do this to him.” Ava stepped threateningly closer to Vivienne, who's icy glare was accompanied by the pull of magic from the fade.

“You'd rather him die than seeing him a templar reborn?”

“Of course I don't want him to die. It's just not right. It has nothing to do with him becoming a templar again.” Ava softened at the question and finally stopped her pacing, planting two closed fists on the edge of the war table.

“He needs his templar abilities to survive.  It's what has kept him alive this long.” Vivienne would not let go of the idea.

The Inquisitor shook her head in protest. “We don’t even know if that’s true.”

“It’s our only theory.”

“Based on what little we know which doesn't make it right.” Leliana, the resident fact seeker, pointed out the obvious flaw in Vivienne's logic.

“Does anyone else have any thoughts on why Cullen has not awakened?” Josephine addressed the crowd quickly, before the mages could resume the quarrel.

“I believe that he cannot.” Solas paced toward the way table slowly as if measuring his words. “I suspect that his control over the fade is not related to magic. It’s as if he is there physically.”

“But Cullen cannot be physically in the fade. His corporeal form is still here in Skyhold.”

“I never said it was a simple explanation.”

“Perhaps we can visit him in the fade? And yes I’m looking at you Solas. Tevinter hasn't had a somniari for centuries.” Dorian spoke from the back corner where he had huddled to stay out of the heated debate.

“I have tried to follow him in the fade, but the veil is strange around him. It shifts and changes in ways that I cannot comprehend. Not without time to study.”

“We don’t have time unfortunately.” Dorian sighed.

“Send me into the fade.” Ava’s gaze was locked onto Solas, who tilted his head at her suggestion.

“Inquisitor, my command of the fade is much stronger than yours. I don't know if your presence changes anything.”

“It will. My connection to the Commander is stronger than your connection to the fade.” Solas looked amused by the response, and nodded a single nod.

“How would we send the Inquisitor into the fade?” Leliana was genuinely curious, already plotting on how to use this to the Inquisition's advantage.

“There are elven rituals,” started Solas.

“Or we could do something akin to a harrowing.” Vivienne, having relented on the lyrium for now, looked intrigued.

“Instead of Templars standing around a mage in the fade, it'll be mages standing around a Templar.” Dorian chuckled, his arms crossed in his usual stance. “Am I the only one who found that amusing?” A survey of flat stares was all he received.

“Inquisitor, may I ask, what happens if you find him?” Solas regarded her compassionately, which was strange from the normally stoic mage.

“I don't know. I can only tell him what we know, and that we are trying to find a way for him to get out.”

“But how does he get out?” Everyone looked to the apostate mage for the answer.

“That’s the wrong question.” Solas stopped and looked Ava square in the eye.

“What is keeping him there?”


End file.
